The red poster (flesh + blood) for David Cronenberg‘s Crimes of the Future seems to be referencing the Bluray jacket for David Lynch‘s Blue Velvet.

The murky, twilight-of-death, Tomb of Ligeia-like alternate one=sheet seems almost designed to repel interest.

Received this morning: “Last night I saw a totally booked screening of The Northman. The room was filled with young filmmakers, largely men, and there was a crackling sense of anticipation. But when the credits rolled at the end, there was a discernible sense of deflation.

“It’s a beautiful looking film — one haunting vista after another. Stunning cinematography. An authentic universe — sweaty, muddy, bloody guts, chaos. Very believably true to life.

“But unfortunately [there’s] no emotional context. For all the [ravishing compositions], it’s submerged in ice-cold story telling. No human connection to the drama and tragedy. All that electricity and no plug.

“You keep waiting for that connection. For the satisfaction and conflict that comes with a visceral story of righteous revenge.

“But there’s no there, there.”

HE salutes Kevin Sessums for calling out this kind of abhorrent, uncouth behavior. I suffered through a similar experience four years ago during a screening of Jurassic Park: Fallen Kingdom.

Hollywood Elsewhere is down with Al Pacino, 81, having some kind of intimate relationship with Noor Alfallah, 28. Pacino, Mick Jagger, Nicolas Berggruen — she likes “being” with older rich guys, and so what? HE does have an issue, however, with Pacino wearing whitesides. I’ve been voicing objections to those horrid-looking shoes for two or three years now. (Longer?)

Kate James, Amber Heard‘s personal assistant between 2012 and 2015, testified today (Thursday, 4.14). We’re all capable of fuming rage, I suppose. It’s also fair to say that some of us are better at fuming rage than others. More committed, I mean.

The following nine boldfaced Cannes Competition titles have my interest, but generally speaking I’m feeling a bit underwhelmed this morning. Okay, a little bummed out.

The absence of Ari Aster‘s Disappointment Blvd. is, for me, a painful wound. If this allegedly four-hour epic had been included, Cannes ’22 would have taken on an extra dimension. Without it, it feels diminished.

I look at this rundown and I experience an imperceptible slump in my soul.

And I have to ask myself, “What will Clayton Davis say about these films?” He can wet himself over the non-competitive titles — Baz Luhrman‘s Elvis, Joseph Kosinski‘s Top Gun: Maverick, George Miller‘s Three Thousand Years of Longing — but then what? HE will be waiting with bated breath to see what Davis thinks of Cristian Mungiu‘s RMN.

HOLY SPIDER by Ali ABBASI
LES AMANDIERS by Valeria BRUNI TEDESCHI
CRIMES OF THE FUTURE (Les crimes du futur) by David CRONENBERG
TORI ET LOKITA (Tori and Lokita) by Jean-Pierre et Luc DARDENNE
STARS AT NOON by Claire Denis
CLOSE by Lukas DHONT
FRÈRE ET SŒUR by Arnaud DESPLECHIN
ARMAGEDDON TIME by James Gray
BROKER by KORE-EDA Hirokazu
NOSTALGIA by Mario MARTONE
RMN by Cristian MUNGIU
TRIANGLE OF SADNESS by Ruben ÖSTLUND
HAEOJIL GYEOLSIM (Decision to leave) by PARK Chan-Wook
SHOWING UP by Kelly REICHARDT
LEILA’S BROTHERS by Saeed ROUSTAEE
BOY FROM HEAVEN by Tarik SALEH
ZHENA CHAIKOVSKOGO (Tchaïkovski’s wife) by Kirill SEREBRENNIKOV
HI-HAN (Eo) by Jerzy SKOLIMOWSKI

Word around the campfire was that Armageddon Time wouldn’t be showing in Cannes, but a last-minute switcheroo happened, or so it appears. Okay, fine. The “James Gray cabal” has been a powerful force for years so I’m not totally surprised. But I’ve spoken to a guy who saw it recently and…okay, I won’t say anything.