A friend who hadn’t seen Mad Max: Fury Road in theatres just watched the Bluray last night, and he noticed that portions had accelerated and slowed-down frame rates. Not the same thing as the herky-jerky motion in Saving Private Ran and Gladiator, but in the same vague ballpark. He’d just installed a Sony 4k projector and was running data up-rezzed from an Oppo, so he wasn’t sure if it was the film or the hardware. Then he came upon a quote from dp John Seale, which basically said the Mad Max frame rates were finely manipulated all through:

“Something like 50 or 60 percent of the film is not running at 24 frames a second, which is the traditional frame rate,” said Seale. “It’ll be running below 24 frames because [director] George Miller, if he couldn’t understand what was happening in the shot, slowed it down until you could. Or if it was too well understood, he’d shorten it or he’d speed it up back towards 24. His manipulation of every shot in that movie is intense.”

Director Rod Lurie is conducting another Hollywood-centric Facebook poll, this time about the greatest-ever lead performances in feature films. Which right away excludes James Gandolfini in The Sopranos so the HE version is allowing performances from longform cable. Lurie started me off with a taste of 20 performances, and right away I was saying to myself “these are too familiar, too boilerplate…where’s that special-passion choice that defies conventional thinking?”

What is a greatest-ever performance anyway? My theory is that picks in this realm have less to do with skill or technique or even, really, the actor, and a lot more to do with the viewer and what they choose to see. The choices that people make tend to reflect their intimate personal histories on some level. Because they’re choosing performances or more precisely characters who closely mirror and express their deepest longings, fondest hopes and saddest dreams.

My late younger brother was tremendously moved by Mark Ruffalo‘s portrayal of a loser in You Can Count On Me, in large part because my brother was that character. I know a pretty lady who’s always felt close to Vivien Leigh‘s Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind for the same reason. Bill Clinton once said on a High Noon DVD documentary that Gary Cooper‘s performance in High Noon is his all-time favorite because Will Kane‘s situation (everyone chickening out when things get tough and leaving him to stand alone) reminded him of what it’s often like for a sitting U.S. President.

When I began to assemble my pantheon the first nominees that came to mind were Gandolfini, Marlon Brando in On The Waterfront, Monica Vitti in L’Avventura, Amy Schumer in Trainwreck (I’m dead serious), George Clooney in Michael Clayton, Gary Cooper in High Noon, Mia Farrow in Broadway Danny Rose, Lee Marvin in Point Blank, Alan Ladd in Shane, Brad Pitt in Moneyball, Marilyn Monroe in Some like It Hot and Jean Arthur in Only Angels Have Wings. This is without thinking anything through or second-guessing myself.

I’ve been chuckling at the flip, iconoclastic, world-weary smirkings and pot-shots of P.J. O’Rourke since the mid ’70s — a long journey. I can’t think of another rightie libertarian whose stuff I’ve laughed at quite so often. Come to think of it I can’t think of another rightie libertarian whose stuff I’ve laughed at, period. One way or another I’ve always been a fan of his material. (For the most part.) Mainly, I suppose, because O’Rourke was editor-in-chief at the National Lampoon during that legendary publication’s last decently creative period, or ’78 through ’80, and because I truly worshipped that mag back in the day so there’s a carry-over effect.

O’Rourke is the author of 16 satirically smart-ass books (including last year’s “The Baby Boom: How It Got That Way (And It Wasn’t My Fault) (And I’ll Never Do It Again),” which I haven’t yet read) and is currently a monthly columnist for the Daily Beast.

Two of my favorite O’Rourke books are “Holidays in Hell” and “Modern Manners“. I’ve also always loved the title of “Republican Party Reptile“, or more precisely the illustration of Dwight D. Eisenhower wearing a mohawk (which was dumped when O’Rourke’s publisher explained that relatively few targeted readers knew or cared who Eisenhower was). Honestly? I’ve never read “Republican Party Reptile”. No offense but why would I? I’m a leftie, and in some respects I’m selfish enough as it is.

Two days ago movie-weekly.com‘s Richard de Carvalho posted an interview with legendary movie-poster artist Drew Struzan at Disney’s D23 Expo. A longtime George Lucas pally and a designer of Star Wars posters since the late ’70s, Stryzan was hired by J.J. Abrams to create the one-sheet for Stars Wars: The Force Awakens. Struzan told Carvalho that before starting he “got to read the script and subsequently I’ve seen half of [The Force Awakens] and I can tell you and the fans this, honest to God, is far and away probably going to be the best Star Wars you’ve ever seen…it’s beautifully made and it’s a wonderful story.”

So what’s Struzan gonna say? That having read the Force Awakens script and having seen half of the film that it’s not too bad?

Let’s allow that Struzan’s words may turn out to be a straight-dope assessment. I’d be delighted if everyone agrees down the road, but how can you trust Struzan for the time being? He’s been cashing Star Wars paychecks off and on for over 35 years and has never, to my knowledge, said anything of a critical nature about the prequels. Or any Star Wars film for that matter. How discerning is he? What are his values?

I’m sorry but this latest Legend trailer is too focused upon the Kray brothers slugging guys and then glaring at them (or vice versa), and not enough on mood, mid ’60s London highs, offbeat character moments and gallows humor. Why do these trailers keep ignoring Emily Browning? The earlier trailer that popped in mid July was better. My mood sank when I realized Legend would be going to Toronto but not Telluride. Broke my fucking heart.

Today Rope of Silicon‘s Brad Brevet announced that he’s shutting down the site…bang. Brevet has always been one of the better ones, a hard-working, super-disciplined professional who delivered a first-rate, handsomely designed movie website for 12 years. I’m really very sorry to see this happen.

For whatever reason Brevet hasn’t explained the particulars in his farewell essay. All he says is that “shutting down the entire site was the best and easiest option for me at this time.” He also makes it clear that “all the site’s content will not be lost and I expect my reviews will be online again at some point in the near future…I will not stop writing.” He says he’ll also be going to the Toronto Film Festival.

“But Tony, with his impulsiveness and selfishness…he’s locked up in that fucking head of his.” — Junior Soprano (Dominic Chianese) in “The Knight in White Satin Armor,” the 25th Sopranos episode and twelfth of season #2, originally aired on 4.2.00.

When I first heard this line I laughed, and then I asked myself to what extent it applies to Scott Walker or Scott Foundas or myself or George Clooney or Alejandro G. Inarritu or whomever.

I like to think of myself as a free man in Paris who’s just dropped a tab of mescaline, but the unfortunate truth is that I’m probably “locked up” as much as Tony Soprano or anyone else ever was. It doesn’t feel good to admit this, but it’s probably true.

I know that I’m theoretically open to the concept of an emotional and psychological jailbreak, and that I live for that possibility on a daily basis. I could name a lot of journalists in my circle who are totally locked up (or more precisely locked down) but what would that accomplish?

I know that the line struck me as hilarious when I first heard it, and I’m chuckling at it right now.

Until today I had never seen this photo of Tony Curtis and Marilyn Monroe between takes of Some Like It Hot. Notice how Curtis is leaning forward slightly and how she’s leaning back and to the left. I love Curtis’s brand new brown-and-white saddle shoes. I could do with a pair of my own.

This latest Studio Canal Third Man Bluray is derived from the 4K restoration that screened at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival. I’m mildly curious to see it, but I felt so horribly burned by that grainstormed Criterion Bluray of The Third Man (i.e., the one that popped in February 2009) that it’s entirely possible that I’ll never buy a disc of this film again, especially with that bothersome zither score. Maybe I’ll watch an HD version via Amazon streaming.

This was taken for a May 1974 People magazine profile. To me the look on Bodganovich’s face is kind of priceless because it suggests an attitude or mindset that often or most easily manifests when you’re young and flush and things are going your way, and especially when your girlfriend is hot and curvy and the perfect partner for the moment. Nothing is permanent. Everything changes. It all falls away.

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Ridley Scott‘s The Martian looks and sounds great, but the idea of being saved by friends willing to risk their lives as well as destroy their careers is, of course, at odds with human nature. You know what isn’t at odds with human nature? Scott’s The Counselor. Damon is toast in the way that Lee Marvin was toast when John Vernon shot him twice in that Alcatraz cell in Point Blank — everything that follows is a dream. The film’s sentimental scheme, initially popularized by Andy Weir’s 2011 novel, is for little boys and girls who want desperately to believe in liberty, equality and fraternity. If you want a more realistic capturing of the way things unfortunately tend to go in tough situations of this type, watch Mikhail Kalatozov‘s The Red Tent (’69).

“Oh, but anyway, Toto, we’re home…home! And this is my room and you’re all here and I’m not going to leave here ever, ever again, because I love you all! And…oh, Auntie Em, there’s no place like home!”

That aside I’m sure I’ll have a great time at The Martian when I see it in Toronto. I’ll invest in the illusions and the storytelling expertise and the general technology “sell” but I won’t believe the story. But no biggie. I can unhook my brain activity as well as the next guy.

The trailer for Roberts Eggers and A24’s The Witch promises a 2016 release (I’m guessing in either January, February or March) and a 1.24.15 Jeff Sneider/Wrap story stated that the film would be viewable on DirectTV 30 days prior to theatrical. The Witch had its big debut at Sundance ’15, out of which Eggers won a U.S. Dramatic Competition directing award. The Hollywood Reporter‘s Todd McCarthy wrote that the film is about refined filmmaking chops first and conventional horror thrills second, but that sounds fine to me.

“A genuine curiosity to bubble up from the contemporary American independent film scene, The Witch aims to extract modern horror thrills from a story set in a meticulously re-created Puritan New England of nearly 400 years ago. In the event, the dedication exerted to render the mores, beliefs, speech patterns and way of life among radical Calvinists of the period proves more compelling than does the witchcraft-saturated story, which is pretty short on scares or surprises.

I’ve never felt any kinship with Hillary Clinton, but a press-conference remark that she shared yesterday in Las Vegas not only made me laugh — it almost made me want to hug her. From The Hill‘s Ben Kamisar: “Asked if her email server, which has been turned over to the Department of Justice, had been wiped clean, Clinton initially shrugged and later joked, ‘Like with a cloth or something? I don’t know how it works digitally at all.'”

Clinton may have had dark Machiavellian reasons for deleting all those emails, but I suspect that most of the tale is contained within that “cloth” quote. Like many boomer and GenX women I’ve known, Clinton is just a technical klutz. That’s it. Coupled with her natural tendency towards secrecy and paranoid thinking about the people who are out to get her, that’s probably the whole thing. If she was more knowledgable about email accounts and had to do it all over again, she’d almost certainly not repeat this mistake. But she made it and now she’s stuck in it.

Neflix’s Narcos is a ten-episode series (popping on 8.28) about the rise, reign and fall of the late Columbian cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar. I believe in the series because it’s been directed by HE’s own Jose Padilha (Elite Squad, Elite Squad: The Enemy Within), and because Escobar is played by the charismatic star of the two Elite Squad films, Wagner Moura. And because Miss Bala star Stephanie Sigman has a significant sopporting role. These are my touchstones.

Who previews a 50-minute portion of a longish film slated to screen at a major film festival in three weeks time? You preview 25 or 30 minutes’ worth, no? For what it’s worth I’ve heard the same admiring remarks, but I’d feel better if the praise wasn’t coming from semi-vested parties or from Collider‘s Haleigh Foutch, whom I presume is inclined to swoon for anything of a galactic or fantastical nature sight unseen. I just want to hear from a cranky nihilist who doesn’t give a shit about anybody or anything — if a person like this says The Martian is top-tier, then I’ll believe it. I’m happy for Scott if the news is true.