“Vengeance” Is 96% Brilliant

Late last night I streamed B.J.Novak‘s Vengeance (for $20 bills!) and was seriously, genuinely impressed. How the hell did the Blumhouse animals get involved with this? It’s way, way above their usual crude-horror level. And at the same time it’s a Focus Features release, and I was asking myself “what the hell happened with the marketing on this thing?” I’d barely heard of it until Sasha Stone urged me to see it yesterday afternoon.

The Texas-based Vengeance is VERY sharp and savvy, and at the same time one of those rare films with the capacity to settle down and “listen to the grass grow” (a line from Hud, another rural Texas drama) and even feel a semblance of generosity and human compassion for the lives and values of red-state primitives, which is to say folks who aren’t so appalling once you get to know them. Come to think of it I don’t just mean the Texas rurals but also Novak’s “Ben Manalowitz”, whom we also get to know in ways we don’t see coming.

This semi-dweeby 30something who’s played by the star (as well as the director and screenwriter) is a bright, low-key, entirely rational Brooklyn horndog type, way ahead of himself in some ways and at the same time on the emotionally stunted side, and what he experiences in Vengeance is part Brigadoon, part Local Hero and part…well, not quite The Long Goodbye but something that certainly flirts with that realm.

My initial assessment was to call Vengeance a culture-clash dramedy — an extremely social-media-attuned Brooklyn hipster & writer/podcaster & hook-up artist vs. more-than-initially meets-the-eye, family-anchored rurals in Bumblefuck, Texas.

Except it’s not really a “dramedy.” The satirical humor is so dry and under-stated and nuanced and even drill-bitty at times, punctuated as it occasionally is by curiously wise reflections about liberal social media perceptions and ways of living and relating that one could describe as empty or at least lacking in a smartphone-oriented sense vs. under-educated, trailer-park Whataburger Texas primitives, and delivered with a near-total absence of conventional schtick that I didn’t know where to put it.

But I knew for sure that I was watching something real and refreshing. Plus it conveys a learning curve and emotional growth on Novak’s part. And it gives Ashton Kutcher his best-written, most quietly charismatic role ever.

The problem comes at the very end when Novak delivers a surprise ending that was seemingly stolen from, as mentioned, Robert Altman‘s The Long Goodbye, and I’m telling you that it really, REALLY doesn’t work, even though Novak declares early on that he’s not a Texas-styled vengeance type of guy, which is a set-up for an ironic finale. Ben Manalowitz isn’t Shane or Charles Bronson in Death Wish, and there’s no way a guy like this will suddenly morph into an angel of moral justice…no way in hell. I would go so far as to call what I’m half-describing as a train-wreck ending, although Novak manages it throw in a few grace notes after the big surprise. There were four or five ways to go at the very end, and Novak chose the absolute worst option.

That aside (and it’s only a short bit at the very end), Vengeance is WELL worth seeing and thinking about the next day, I’m actually considering giving it a re-watch later this week. There’s no question that Vengeance, which sounds like a primitive actioner in the Mel Gibson mode, is a completely shitty title considering what it’s actually about. Whoever said “wait, let’s call it Vengeance!” should be put into a paddock for seven days and be made to suffer the ridicule of being hit with tomatoes and rotten bananas. Okay, that might be too harsh. But they should at least go on an apology tour and try to explain what their thinking was.

One small thing: Within the Texas family that Ben Manalowitz spends a fair amount of time with is a foxy airhead-y teenage blonde, played by Dove Cameron. Her character, “Kansas City Shaw”, just wants to be “famous”, she says, and for a while you’re thinking “okay, where’s this going to go?” Is she going to hit on Ben in hopes of his inviting her to visit Brooklyn? (She delivers a line early on that alludes to oral predilection.) Is she going to post Instagram videos of herself interacting with Ben or something? But nothing happens. We all like hot blondies but Novak drops her like a bad habit. There’s a second-act family feast scene at Whataburger, and we can see the back of Cameron’s blonde head, but Novak doesn’t give her a line or even a quick insert close-up. She’s part of the family but has been, in a manner of speaking, erased. A curious call.

HBO Max “McCabe”, “Judge Roy Bean” Cigargate

It’s not a rumor — some tiddly-wink at HBO Max has removed Warren Beatty‘s cigar from the McCabe and Mrs. Miller promotional art on the HBO Max menu. Ditto Paul Newman‘s cigar from HBO Max’s promotional art for The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean.

I’m presuming that someone figured that it’s wrong to promote smoking of any kind so the cigar was zotzed. HE is calling this an advertising form of woke “presentism.” What’s next? Digitally erasing Robert Mitchum‘s cigarettes in Out of the Past?


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HE Salutes Venice Champs (Blanchett, Farrell, Guadagnino)

The top 2022 Venice Film Festival winners:

Golden Lion for Best Film: All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, d: Laura Poitras
Grand Jury Prize: Saint Omer, d: Alice Diop
Silver Lion for Best Director: Bones and All, d: Luca Guadagnino
Special Jury Prize: No Bears, d: Jafar Panahi
Best Screenplay: The Banshees of Inisherin, Martin McDonagh
Volpi Cup for Best Actress: Tár, Cate Blanchett
Volpi Cup for Best Actor: The Banshees of Inisherin, Colin Farrell
Marcello Mastroianni Award for Best Young Actor: Bones and All, Taylor Russell

Ford Unveils Indy 5 Morsel at D23

Filed by THR‘s Aaron Couch, Sydney Odman and Borys Kit: “The footage shown included a big sequence during a New York ticker tape parade, a horseback chase in a subway tunnel, a train sequence and Indy using his iconic whip to take on a dozen guns.”

How do you “take on a dozen [presumably loaded] guns” with a bullwhip? Remember that scary bedouin villain threatening Indy with a huge sword in the 1981 original, and Indy pulling out his pistol and shooting the guy? I could see Indy using his whip to disarm a swordsman but a dozen guns?

Small HE quibble: Indy’s pants are too baggy.

Repeating Richard III Beef

This has already been kicked around, but Owen Glieberman’s Lost King review got me going again.

HE to Gleiberman: “Very keen on seeing this, and your TIFF review excited me. But why oh why does the film insist that Richard III wasn’t a vaguely grotesque figure, or the glint-eyed. hunchbacked fellow played by Laurence Olivier in the mid ‘50s? Why does the film insist on depriving us of that perversely pleasurable characterization?

“Even if you claim that Richard III was contorted into a deformed or misshaped figure whom dogs barked at…even if you assert that Shakespeare mangled him into a creep in order to please the Tudors, Richard was still a scheming bastard who murdered his way to the throne. And Harry Lloyd’s beatific expression is infuriating in this light. One glance at Lloyd and I felt a surge of instant loathing. How dare you, Stephen Frears and Steve Coogan? The ghost of Lord Olivier is puzzled; ditto the alive-and-well Ian McKellan, Ralph Fiennes and Al Pacino. Unwelcome revisionism, to put it mildly.”

All These + Sally Hawkins?

From Owen Gleiberman’s The Lost King review (9.9.22): “As Philippa Langley, a middle-class British divorcée who, with no special knowledge or skill, goes on a quest to find the remains of King Richard III, Sally Hawkins, who has given so many extraordinary performances, may, in this movie, have given her greatest one yet.”

We all understand that Michelle Yeoh has been grandfathered in by the powers-that-be. And there’s absolutely no question about Cate Blanchett and Olivia Colman…don’t even question it. Whatever the general response to Blonde, Ana de Armas will probably qualify because of the Cuban-actress-plays-Marilyn factor (reassuring to non-white actors who may one day aspire to play this or that famous white character) plus the touching metaphor of MM, bruised and maimed by pig males all her life, dying from a combination of their sins and her own calamitious childhood.

Benevolent Bay Area Attitudes

San Francisco has always had skid-row types but this is different. The barking dog completes the feral atmosphere. Whipped cream with a cherry on top.

Pomp & Tradition

British royalty is mostly about the notion of high-born continuity, which most of us find vaguely comforting on some level. (My heritage and bloodline come from England, a fact that automatically makes me a racist cad, so I can feel it to some extent.) Nostalgic, misty-eyed history, pomp and circumstance, and tourism. When did the British monarchy become ceremonial rather than authoritative? During the mid to later stages of Queen Victoria’s reign (1860s-1901), most would say. 130 or 140 years ago. Exalted in a sense but mainly about soft, symbolic power throughout the entire 20th Century and into today. And yet…

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Dukakis and the Tank

For those who may have ignored the initial link (posted yesterday), I’m reposting this nine-year-old Politico piece, It’s very refreshing when a political campaign staffer admits to simply having made (or more precisely been part of) a colossal mistake. I would love to watch a political campaign series called “Boy, Did We Fuck Up or What?”

If I had been in Michael Dukakis‘s shoes, I simply would have said “I don’t care how unsafe it is to not wear the helmet…I’m not wearing it, period. It makes me look like Rockey the Squirrel. And if that means we can’t do the tank thing, fine. I’m not stupid and I’m not fucking putting it on. In fact, fuck the tank thing anyway. Forget the whole thing.”

Low-Rent Hit Job

We’re all familiar with those unfortunate biological quirks of nature in which people of quality and achievement are occasionally stuck with lesser, weaker family members or in-laws, otherwise known as the black-sheep or bad-seed syndrome.

There’s the bad-son syndrome (i.e., Hunter Biden, Cameron Douglas), as well as the bad-brother syndrome (Billy Carter) or the bad half-brother syndrome (Roger Clinton). My younger brother Tony, who passed in 2009, was closer to an under-achiever than a bad seed, but everyone is familiar with this. Remember George Clooney‘s no-account brother in Michael Clayton, the guy with the substance issues who stole steel-belted radial tires from his sister’s garage?

It follows that many fathers or older brothers or wealthy benefactors from within the family, motivated by love or misplaced loyalty or a simple urge to protect and defend, sometimes do what they can to clean up the messes caused by bad-seed types.

No reasonable person will dispute that Hunter Biden behaved like a fairly bad seed during his crack-and-cocaine-and-hookers addiction period. We all understand that during the Obama administration Hunter profited in various ways from being Joe Biden‘s son. (Are you telling me that Donald Trump‘s sons are any better from an ethical perspective?) At the same time no reasonable person would argue that Hunter’s behavior casts any kind of substantial reflection upon President Joe Biden‘s character or moral behavior. Fathers will always try to help their bad-seed sons. For much of his life Hunter was a wrong one — weak, derelict, craven, maybe even depraved. And so what? American families are full of Hunter Biden types.

Which is why bullshit rightwing movies like My Son Hunter are disreputable distractions. Distributed by Breitbart News, directed by Robert Davi and costarring Gina Carano as a secret service agent…hah! Laurence Fox plays Hunter Biden, and John James plays his dad. Production began in October 2021 in Serbia and lasted for four weeks (!).

Ludicrous Monroe Anecdote With Sliver of Truth

A trustworthy friend has passed along a story involving a debunked Marilyn Monroe myth…a 32-year-old anecdote that touches upon the legendary relationship between Monroe and JFK, a phony paternity story, an alleged Monroe impersonator and Oliver Stone.

None of it is remotely credible, and I’m having second thoughts about even posting this as a time-wasting distraction given the fraudulent aroma, but the Stone connection is 100% real.

Friendo to HE: “Back in early ’91 I was introduced to Oliver Stone, who had asked me to drop by his office [for professional reasons]. I went with a friend, and before Oliver appeared we were chatting in the outer office with an attractive woman around 30. She looked familiar but I couldn’t place her. Oliver was working on JFK at the time, and he later explained that this woman had contacted him, having claimed she was the daughter of JFK and Marilyn. She looked exactly like the two of them.”

HE to friendo: “Marilyn snuck in a pregnancy? Was this woman’s hair platinum blonde? Did you ask her name? Did you discuss what she was up to with Oliver? Did he say anything about her other than she had contacted him?”

Friendo to HE: “There was no discussion about why she was at Oliver’s office, nor who she resembled as the penny didn’t drop until after we were with Oliver. I don’t recall that her hair was blonde. The resemblance seemed cioser to JFK with just enough MM in the mix to make it interesting.”

HE to friendo: “If there was a JFK-MM daughter who had the will and the gumption to get in touch with Oliver Stone in ’91, she wouldn’t have stopped there. She would have played that card for all it was worth. Including submitting to a paternity test. If verified, she would have become the Queen of the Realm.

“You might have spoken to Susan Griffiths, an MM impersonator who had apparently claimed to be Gladys Morris Baker, who believed herself to be the daughter of Marilyn Monroe’s cousin, Meredith Baker.

“A disreputable tabloid posted a story about Meredith allegedly telling Gladys on her deathbed in 2014 that she had actually been adopted and was actually JFK + MM’s daughter.

“Snopes’ Dan Evon looked into the claim on 10.18.18, and concluded it was all gas and fancy.

“The mythical “Gladys Morris Baker” was allegedly born in June 1962.

“Griffiths starred in a low-budget, no-account 1991 TV movie called Marilyn and Me. The Wiki page says that the film, directed by John Paterson and costarribg Terry Moore, premiered on the History Channel in India on May 12, 2006.