I believe in Ari Aster‘s Disappointment Blvd.. Partly (mostly?) because there’s something about that title. And I believe in the idea of it playing next month in Cannes, even if IndieWire‘s Eric Kohn is right (not ready**) and Jordan Ruimy is wrong (likely competition). Even if I suspect that it’ll disappoint or weird me out in some way. Even if this is a fan poster, which I presume it is.

** I was very upset when I read Kohn’s prediction riff, which is partly a wish-list thing.

I’ll catch it tomorrow or certainly this weekend. My bad. No excuses.

Imagine driving through your own neighborhood and seeing all these dead bodies lying on the road, one after another. This is a common sight over there, I realize, but for some reason this video hit me extra hard.

My brother sent this to me. Town of Bucha northwest of Kyiv. The amount of dead citizens on one street alone…I just can’t even process. pic.twitter.com/KOSwISih6N

— Viktoriia 🇺🇸🇺🇦 (@ViktoriiaUAH) April 1, 2022

An allusion to the ending of Invaders From Mars + a little sprinkling of Chris Nolan‘s Tenet…

Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to provide examples of two kinds of “comic” performances. The first kind is a performance that’s intended to be comic within a comedic film, but in fact isn’t the least bit funny or even chuckle-worthy. The second kind is a performance that is, in fact, quite funny if not hilarious but in a weird, perverse way — a performance that you cant help but be tickled by even though it unfolds in a film that in no way presents itself as a comedy.

HE’s example of the first kind is Mindy Kaling‘s comedy-writer character in Nisha Ganatra‘s Late Night, a 2019 feminist relationship comedy. Kaling’s “Molly Patel” is hired to write jokes for Emma Thompson‘s (“Katherine Newbury’s”) late-night talk show, but (a) she isn’t the least bit funny, (b) she hasn’t the personality or attitude of a good (i.e., brilliant) comedy writer, and (c) she doesn’t deliver a single funny line. All Molly cares about is being respected in the work environment and not being treated as a token POC hire, which of course she is.

Why is it a struggle to believe that Molly (who has never before written professional-grade comedy and has mostly been hired because she’s a woman of color) is a comedy writer worth her salt? Because most jokes that “land” and actually make people laugh are always a little cutting and sometimes flirt with cruelty. A certain pointed irreverence is essential. Molly has none of that.

HE’s best example of the second kind of “comic” performance is Ben Kingsley‘s in Sexy Beast (’01). During a Four Seasons interview I told Kingsley that I regarded his “Don Logan” as one of the funniest I’ve ever seen in a film that obviously wasn’t a comedy, and he got it — he was delighted that I understood what he was going for.

I’m guessing that maybe 5% of those who saw Sexy Beast found Kingsley’s performance “funny,” if that. But that was partly the point — you had to have a perverse attitude about that kind of psychotic gangster character in the first place. Ian McShane‘s “Teddy Bass” wasn’t the least bit amusing, of course — he was an ice-old sociopath start to finish. As was Don Logan, except Kingsley went for something more — he pushed the energy and absurdity of that enraged character so that you couldn’t help but at least snicker. Especially in the very last scene, which is one of the “funniest” ever in this vein.

Other examples of either kind?

I was pedaling rather heavily on the bicycle last night. Standing up on the pedals and leaning into them to maintain a decent speed as I went uphill. It felt good to resist the G forces and push on with my formidable leg muscles.

The result, of course, is that my left ankle aches this morning. A bit stiff and sensitive and fuck me. This never happened when I was 47. I’m very fucking disappointed with that sore ankle now. I’m looking at it with disdain and muttering “are you a man or a mouse”?

Okay, I think this’ll do. I’m done. Let it go until AMPAS decides to suspend Smith (or not) on 4.18.