On 6.18.91 the late Johnny Carson was slapped in the mouth by a Celebes ape — aka a crested black macaque or black ape. His name was “Doc.”

Everyone has seen this clip, I presume,. but the best part, I feel, isn’t the slap but the mimicry stuff that begins around the 3:40 mark.

This is how Hollywood Elsewhere relates to all animals — I talk to them in their language. I meow, I whimper, I moan, I make little noises with my mouth. Basic emotional tone is what matters, but you also have to reach out.

Last night Javier Bardem and Nicole Kidman, costars of Being The Ricardos. were given the Maltin Modern Master award by the Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival. Inside the Arlington Theatre, I mean. Kidman appeared remotely due to a hamstring injury. The legendary Leonard Maltin himself handled the interviewing honors. It was a generally pleasant evening.

Neither Javier nor Nicole will win in their respective categories — Will Smith will take the Best Actor trophy, and the Best Actress Oscar will be won by either Jessica Chastain or (my fondest wish) Penelope Cruz, aka Mrs. Javier.

But I’d like to nominate or even hand an award to Javier for being the best person nominated in a major category — the kindest and warmest and most accessible fellow in the 2022 Oscar constellation.

Why? It’s all subjective but it comes down to something that happened 15 years ago in Cannes. That would be 2007 — the No Country for Old Men year. Javier and I were sitting on the the Cote d’Azur beach in the evening, and I bummed a Marlboro light from the guy, and as we parted company a few minutes later he gave me another — one to grow on, so to speak. I’ve never forgotten that moment, and that’s why I like him so much.

Update: I’m now thinking I might’ve gotten that wrong. The extra Marlboro Light episode might have happened at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, either in ’07 or ’08. But what’s the difference?

The Power of the Dog‘s Benedict Cumberbatch (aka “stinky Phil Burbank”) was the big hotshot guest last night at the Santa Barbara Film Festival.

Interviewer Pete Hammond quoted a Vulture contributor who had called Cumberbatch “the new king of celebrity impressionists.”

Cumberbatch shifted in his seat for four or five seconds, and then suddenly decided to attempt an impression of Hammond. It happens at the 00:24 mark: “Oh, God, what have I let myself in for?…hah-hah-hah-hah! Oh…it’s Peter Parker…I mean, Spider, the Spider strange…aaah-hah!”

Jubilant Hammond response while flopping back in his chair: “Huh-hah-hah-HAH! That’s great! I love that, I love that.”

This really, actually happened.

“This situation should never have happened. However, Bank of America worked with me and addressed it to my satisfaction and we have moved on,” Coogler said in a statement to Variety.

Police draw firearm on Marvel’s Black Panther director Ryan Coogler before pulling out the handcuffs. Bank of America employee says “Good Job Officer” as they take him out! pic.twitter.com/O8kKGS8gak

— VideoMixtape.com (@VideoMixtape_) March 10, 2022

Originally posted on 3.3.13: “A reading of Stanley Kubrick‘s 9.29.69 screenplay makes it fairly obvious that Napoleon would have had the same vibe as Barry Lyndon, and been spoken the same way and framed and paced the same way.

“Okay, the lead character would be a determined egomaniacal genius instead of an amoral Irish lout and Napoleon would have more than one battle scene, but beyond these and other distinctions we’re talking the same line of country. Everything Kubrick wanted to accomplish or put into Napoleon he put into Lyndon — simple.

“Remember the scene when Ryan O’Neal‘s Lyndon asks the pretty blonde fraulein if he could pay her for a meal, and then the follow-up scene inside her cottage when they carefully and delicately get around to talking about him staying that night and being her lover, etc.?

Consider this scene from Kubrick’s Napoleon — same tone, same idea, same sexual undercurrent. A lonely soldier, a poor young woman, etc.

EXT. LYON STREET – NIGHT

It is a witheringly cold winter night, in Lyon. People, bundled up to the eyes, hurry along the almost deserted street, past empty cafes which are still open. Napoleon, 16 years old, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, passes a charming, young street-walker, about his own age. He stops and looks at her, uncertainly. A large snowflake lands on her nose which makes him smile.

GIRL: Good evening, sir.
NAPOLEON: Good evening, Mademoiselle.
GIRL: The weather is terrible, isn’t it, sir?
NAPOLEON: Yes, it is. It must be one of the worst nights we have had this winter.
GIRL: Yes, it must be.

Napoleon is at a loss for conversation.

NAPOLEON: You must be chilled to the bone, standing out of doors like this.
GIRL: Yes, I am, sir.
NAPOLEON: Then what brings you out on such a night?
GIRL: Well, one must do something to live, you know. And I have an elderly mother who depends on me.
NAPOLEON: Oh, I see. That must be a great burden.
GIRL: One must take life as it comes. Do you live in Lyon, sir?
NAPOLEON: No, I’m only here on leave. My regiment is at Valence.
GIRL: Are you staying with a friend, sir?
NAPOLEON: No…I have a…room…at the Hotel de Perrin.
GIRL: Is it a nice warm room, sir?
NAPOLEON: Well, it must be a good deal warmer than it is here on the street.
GIRL: Would you like to take me there, so that we can get warm, sir?
NAPOLEON: Uhhn…yes, of course. If you would like to go there. But I have very little money.
GIRL: Do you have three francs, sir?

If I was a youngish Floridian dad raising a couple of toddlers, I would have no problem with the “Don’t Say Gay” bill.

The proposed law, which Gov. Ran DeSantis reportedly intends to sign, bans public school districts from teaching about sexual orientation or gender identity in kindergarten through the third grade, or “in a manner that is not age-appropriate or developmentally appropriate for students.”

I was in kindergarten once, and I distinctly recall that my interest in hormonal and sexual matters was nonexistent; my interest in same when I was in third grade (9 or 10 years old) was advancing but fairly minimal. So what’s the rush? Why indoctrinate kids with trans teachings when they’re in their soft-clay phase? Why not acquaint students with the basics (respect all persuasions, discrimination based on sexual orientation is callous and wrong) at age 12 or thereabouts, or when they first begin to taste puberty?

State Rep. Joe Harding, a Republican who introduced the bill, has said that the bill’s intention is to keep parents “in the know and involved on what’s going on” with their child’s education. What kind of parent would say “no, no…I want my kid to be indoctrinated into the trans theology as early as possible”?

Our gas-pump pain is quite acute — filling my empty VW Passat tank last night cost over $90 — what is the murder of families and the shelling of innocent mothers and children compared to this? Only Ron DeSantis can save us!

Note to HE readership: I’m being facetious.