The Edge ('97) is a rugged Alaskan wilderness survival drama, and more precisely about three two men vs. one badass Kodiak bear who wants to maul and eat them.
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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.
Today’s emotional testimony from Isaac Baruch, Johnny Depp’s friend and neighbor, was quite something. Persuasive, I mean. Not conclusively but Baruch’s words got to me. It made me think of Jordan Ruimy’s article about the Depp-Heard libel trial (“Johnny Depp: Innocent #MeToo Victim?“).
Speaking as one who had a vodka-and-lemonade problem in the ‘90s and then an off-and-on wine dependency in the aughts, I think people change when booze gets hold of them during stressful times. Dark stuff comes out. And if you’re in conflict with the wrong kind of person under the influence of alcohol, it can trigger you. With some people alcohol can be a terrible influencer.
A few days ago I heard about a 3.31 Orange County research screening for Peter Farrelly‘s The Greatest Beer Run Ever (Apple +). I heard nothing about how it played. The screening indicates, of course, that the film will open later this year, probably in the fall.
The Apple TV + release is a true-life Vietnam War drama (layered with a little dramedy here and there?), based on the same-titled 2020 book by John “Chickie” Donohue and Joanna Molloy.
I’ve read Donohue and Molloy’s book, and it’s quite the episodic journey — an apolitical adventure about the Vietnam War and being in harm’s way with Donohue, the lead protagonist (Zac Efron), somehow making his way through all the dangers and red tape and whatnot.
The book reads like a kind of working-class love story — a saga about 20something guys who were serving (or had served) in the Vietnam War during the mid to late ’60s…a time when many in the antiwar left were professing hate or contempt for soldiers for bringing all kinds of horror to the lives of Vietnamese citizens (i.e., My Lai).
If Farrelly’s film follows the tone and attitude of the book, The Greatest Beer Run Ever will not — repeat, not — bear much resemblance to Platoon, Full Metal Jacket, Apocalypse Now, Coming Home, Da 5 Bloods or any other high-profile Vietnam flick that comes to mind.
When I think of the Vietnam War, I think of the furies swirling around and howling in the ears of those bigwigs who sent 58,000 men to their deaths. The book certainly isn’t channelling any kind of guilt-trip narrative. It stays with Donohue’s perspective start to finish, and doesn’t really deal with the war in any kind of Oliver Stone sense. It’s about the perspective of soldiers who were just trying to survive, and who probably felt little if any allegiance for U.S military objectives at the time.
Set in 1967 and early ’68, the book is Donohue’s first-hand account (he was 26 at the time) of having decided to use his ex-Marine and merchant seaman credentials to get over to Vietnam and somehow track down his buddies and tell them they’re loved by the gang back home and bring them a case of two of beer as tokens of same.
Donohue’s message in a nutshell: “Don’t let the antiwar left get you down, bruhs. We know you’re living through hell but we want you to know that we care about you, and here’s a brewski to prove it.”
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