James Mangold’s A Complete Unknown would be wise to open later this year as 2024’s award season is looking a bit anemic…compared to ‘23 it’s a weak, mewing little kitten…hobbled by last year’s WGA and SAG strikes.

A boilerplate principle photography period is three months, so James Mangold’s film having begun filming a couple of weeks ago indicates a mid-June finish.

That would give Mangold a fairly comfortable post-production period — five full months — to finish A Complete Unknown for theatrical release…let’s say around Thanksgiving or thereabouts.

Joel and Ethan Coen’s Inside Llewyn Davis (‘13), an early ‘60s folk-music period drama with similar visual elements, shot in the late winter and early spring of 2012. It could have been “rushed” into that year’s Oscar season but the Coens wanted to hang back a bit.

Among the fastest post-production turnarounds in Hollywood history are Robert Webb ‘s Love Me Tender (‘56), Otto Preminger’s Anatomy of a Murder (‘59), Oliver Stone’s W. (‘08) and Lorene Scafaria’s Hustlers (‘19) — all were edited, fine-tuned and finished in the vicinity of 11, 12 or 13 weeks.

Mangold would have 20 weeks to finish and present A Complete Unknown by mid November. If he finishes principal by mid June, he could even pull a Preminger and have it ready to screen at the New York Film Festival by late September or early October.

…about Francis Coppola’s Megalopolis possibly not being ready for Cannes?

This is real:

Steam hisses out of my forehead every time I see a Zoomer casually strolling around in baggy flared pants with the cuffs an inch or so above the ankle. There isn’t a dime’s worth of difference between today’s 20something fashion slaves and the Hebrew slaves who built the Great Pyramids of Egypt. Two weeks ago I hit the roof when N.Y. Times fashion maven Jonathan Weiner wrote that “skinny jeans are the new dad jeans.” I wear slim (i.e., not skinny) jeans but I saw red regardless.

…as Michael Corleone prepares to add vocal accompaniment. That’s Hyman Roth, of course, sitting 10 or 12 feet away, reading a lunch menu.

The surging revolutionary power of #MeToo feminism in the late 20teens had nothing to do with the death of Daniel Craig’s James Bond character?

Bullshit. Double triple quadruple quintuple bullshit.

The Bond producers (in particular Barbara Broccoli) had to fundamentally acknowledge the new social reality and show obesiance to feminist social upheavals in the wake of Harvey Weinstein’s downfall of 2017. Broccoli had to symbolically kill Bond’s sexual predator persona — the rudest and most pronounced character trait of this historically sexist dinosaur of legend — and thereby re-set the Bond brand. Obviously.

Launched in the JFK era, the Bond franchise has been profitably rolling along for over 60 years, and various new Bonds have come along at various intervals — Sean Connery, George Lazenby, Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan, Daniel Craig.

And yet all during the long Bond history none of the James Bond characters were killed. Because there was obviously no need as it’s long been understood that the 007 franchise would continue to blitzkreig along with occasional replacements occurring.

But then sometime in the late 20teens Craig said to the producers that he didn’t want to be succeeded by a new guy. Instead he wanted the 007 character terminated with extreme prejudice. And for some reason Broccoli, the longtime (to the manor born) Bond producer, replied that this idea, after many decades of not even thinking of murdering 007, seemed like a good one.

And yet as we speak there are dangerous psychos out there who are insisting that the #MeToo groundswell had absolutely nothing to do with Bond being blown to pieces in No Time To Die.

Repeating: Decade after decade there was no reason to have Bond killed as they knew all along he’d coming back anyway so whadaya whadaya?

Repeating: The Bond producers had never killed Connery, Lazenby, Moore, Dalton or Brosnan so why did they kill Craig? Obviously there was a particular motive or special reason, and don’t give me that “Oh, Craig took Barbara aside one day and just sorta kinda suggested it, and he was so persuasive that Barbara felt she had no choice” crap.

Repeating: Craig has said that the killing of James Bond (his Bond) was a necessary re–set. What he meant was that 007’s demise was decided upon as a symbolic apology gesture to the #MeToo community — as a solemn ceremonial acknowledgment that the sexist Bond of yore (even though Craig’s Bond was generally courtly, demurring and well-behaved with the ladies) had to be symbolically executed as a political–social statement — an acknowledgment of guilt, an apology to militant feminism, a ceremonial beheading of a sexual conquistador.

I for one believe that among the 30,000–plus Gazans who’ve been killed by Israeli troops since the invasion began, the vast majority have not been Hamas militants. Activist combatants are always a minority among any community engaged in (or adjacent to) armed conflict.

The basic view of the 1200 signers seems to be ”you may be right but when has war ever not been cruel and horrific?”

Poor Ava Gardner had recently turned 36 when the filming of On The Beach began in January of ‘59. She looked at least 45…more than a bit puffy, the ravages of a fast life. Stanley Kramer’s apocalyptic drama opened 11 months later, and it lost money, you bet — $700,000 in the red. Educated folk gave it a tumble; Joe and Jane Popcorn mostly said “no thanks”. The fertilizer line is still a howler.

Before global warming March in the tristate area tended to prompt morose meditations — more wintry than springy, damp, occasionally mild but just as often a climate best ignored. Daydreams of South Beach, Key West, Turks & Caicos.

But within the last few days the air has become warmish, standing on the Westport train station platform feels less miserable and trees are starting to think about sprouting leaves.

I’ve never seen Big Jim McClain (‘52 — John Wayne vs. Hawaiian Communists) but the term “treason trail” has recently become a mental irritant. James Arness and Nancy Olson costarred.

Robert Downey, Jr.’s bordering-on-bizarre evening wear (maroon tuxedoes, broadly flared suit pants, heavy-soled shoes) should be cause for alarm among decent Americans everywhere.

…we’re all going to die. A lot of Democrats are going to “come home” on election day, agreed, but many others are going to stay home. Joe Bader Biden’s denial, obstinacy and arrogance will almost certainly do the trick (i.e., return a lying criminal sociopath to the White House), and God help us. It’s really the fault of the wokeys, whom just about everyone despises with a furious passion.

Chris Cillizza and Nate Silver are not fools or idiots. They’re wired in. They know whereof they speak.