I heard about Christopher Hitchens‘ announcement about having esophogal cancer last night. I gather his condition may have been caused by years of cigarette smoking. I’m very sorry. Here’s hoping for some luck.

A journalist friend told me last weekend that he believed that the Russian spy ring story that broke three or four days ago would increase interest in Philip Noyce‘s Salt in the same way the Three Mile Island disaster did a favor for James Bridges‘ The China Syndrome, only to a lesser degree.

I dismissed this because of the anachronistic comedy aspects of the story (a N.Y. Times story said the the spies “could have been more efficient [in their search for information] by surfing the web” and that “none of the accused face charges because in all those years they were never caught sending classified information back to Moscow”) but maybe I’m missing something.

Does this story push Salt into the national conversation in any way, shape or form? Not among HE readers but among rurals, none-too-brights, Average Joes, people who meander around the mall, etc.?

I kept waiting and waiting for the mother of all grand-slam insults, and the only ones that popped through were two old-timers: (a) Joe Pesci‘s elephant dicks line from Raging Bull (starting at 5:03) and (b) Jack Nicholson ‘s withering analysis of female character in As Good As It Gets (starting at 4:23).

The best insults are (a) those that are delivered so deftly that the victim doesn’t realize he/she has been zinged until three or four seconds have elapsed, and (b) those that are coaxed out by the victim, and therefore spoken by the author with some reluctance.

My favorite is from Paths of Glory (1957) when George MacReady‘s General Mireau delivers some pompous line about French patriotism, and Kirk Douglas‘s Colonel Dax mutters that Samuel Johnson felt differently about it. MacReady asks him to explain and Douglas says it was nothing. MacReady angrily insists and Douglas says Johnson’s line about patriotism being “the last refuge of a scoundrel.”

In a 7.1 piece, The Guardian‘s Ryan Gilbey states that there are five milestones in film animation worth nothing — silent cartoons (J. Stuart Blackton‘s first-ever animated fim in 1906, a 1917 full-length Argentinian feature by Quirino Christiani called El Apostol), Disney features, Japanese fantasies and Pixar’s digital innovations. There just be more to the grand history of animation than that. More chapters, more details, more names…c’mon.

The broadest response, I’m guessing, to the just-posted trailer for Matt Reeves‘ Let Me In (Overture, 10.1), a remake of Tomas Alfredson‘s Let The Right One In, is how visually similar the two films seem. Greig Fraser‘s cinematography has less in the way of hard fluorescent lighting than Hoyte Van Hoytema‘s lensing of the original, but otherwise they’re almost identical.

My first gut response was that I was glad to see Chloe Moretz holding down the little-girl vampire fort as I had a negative…okay, disinterested reaction to Lina Leandersson in this role when I first caught Alfredson’s original. And also that Kodi Smit-McPhee, the kid from The Road, is sending off some vibrant emotional signals in the role played in the original by Kare Hedebrant. Let’s hope that Smit-McPhee’s character is portrayed as slightly less wimpy.

The remake is set in 1983 in Alberquerque, New Mexico. The original was also set in the early ’80s. Both films are set in the winter with lots of snow everywhere.

It’s also interesting that the Let Me In trailer appeared about a day after as the first AICN research-screening review was posted by a guy named “NAMSNAD.” The writer seems half-and-half about it. One pop-out remark is that some of the edgy material in the Swedish version has been sanded down by Reeves (hardly a surprise — American remakes of European films always seem to soften or modify in some way). Another is that “it seems as if [Reeves] was just content with making an almost shot-for-shot re-make of the original that Twihards would go to.”

Going by the curious and sometimes perverse numerical critical rating system of Rotten Tomatoes, M. Night Shyamalan‘s The Last Airbender is the lowest-ranked major release of the year so far. Hoi polloi critics have given it an average of 5% and the elite have given a 7% rating for an average of 6%.

A film’s ratings can be mixed/so-so (60% to 75%), mixed shit (40% to 60%), shit (20% to 40%) and steaming piles (under 20%). At least 11 other major releases this year have been generally condemned as time-wasters, but Airbender, so far, is the King of Shit Mountain.

Robert Luketic‘s Killers actually has the same negative average as Airbender — a 12% Average Joe negative mixed with an elite zero rating. But after re-reading the reviews for this Lionsgate release alongside this morning’s Airbender notices, it seems as if the emotional/aesthetic energy directed at Airbender is more impassioned, in part because it has a tragic element in that it sounds the latest gong in the damaged career of the once-admired M. Night Shyamalan.

Jonah Hex is the third worst-rated, if you will, with a 9% average — 12% general, 7% creme de la creme.

Battling it out for fourth and fifth positions are Marmaduke and Grown-Ups. The former has a 10.5% average — 10% general, 11% elite — while Dennis Dugan‘s “comedy” has the same rating with a 10% general and an 11% elite. Sex and the City 2 is currently in sixth place with 12.5 average — a 16 general and 9% elite. Taylor Hackford‘s just-opened Love Ranch is seventh with a 17% general and a 15% creme de la creme for a 16 average.

Occupying the eighth- and ninth-place slots are Clash of the Titans and Prince of Persia, which are tied with 31% each. Clash has a general rating of 30 vs. an elite score of 32. Persia has a 37 general and 25 pick-of-the-pack.

Joe Carnahan‘s A-Team stunk in my book, but its average score of 48 — 49% general, 47% creme — makes it seem almost regal in this particular company. James Mangold‘s Knight and Day is the eleventh worst big-time release of 2010 with a 53% general and a 51% elite for a 52 average. And the twelfth-rated among the major-league disappointments is Eclipse with a 58 average — a 52% hoi polloi and a 64% elite.

With close to $30 million earned earned late last night, the problematic Eclipse is expected to pull down $150 million by the end of the July 4th holiday, or by the evening of Monday, July 5th. As Peter O’Toole says to Donald Wolfit in Becket, “I would spit if I were not in God’s house.” Which alludes to my idea about theatres being churches. A stretch, agreed, but it allows me to quote Anouilh.

I feel so dispirited about Taylor Hackford‘s Love Ranch that I haven’t been able to write anything about it. This is primarily because the bluntly phrased dialogue — the most irritating aspect because of its colloquial boilerplate tone, particularly as spoken by Joe Pesci‘s Joe Conforte-ish character — was written by Mark Jacobson, a New York magazine contributor whom I know slightly and have admired for many years.

All I can figure is that (a) Jacobson was asked to dumb it down by Hackford because the latter felt it “right” that the characters speak this way, and Jacobson did so in order to get paid, (b) he gave the dialogue an uneducated Nevada goombah flavor as a perverse exercise of some kind or (c) his dialogue was of a higher pedigree but Hackford urged the actors (especially Pesci) to slop it down and say it the way they felt it.

Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson has summarized some of the reviews thus far.

TheWrap‘s Hunter Walker has posted a grotesque story about Robert Sanchez, 36 year-old honcho of the recently defunct fanboy site IESB.net, having run for the hills over allegations of sexual misconduct with his step-daughter.

HE mentioned Sanchez twice in ’07 concerning (a) his being involved in a police-supervised sting that recovered Indy 4 photos that had been stolen from Steven Spielberg’s office, and (b) early-bird set photos of Robert Downey, Jr. in his Iron Man outfit that Sanchez posted but then took down due to legal warnings.

Sanchez “has gone missing for roughly three weeks after allegations of sexual misconduct with his underage stepdaughter,” Hunter’s story reports.

“Detectives were seeking Sanchez in connection with allegations of sexual abuse regarding ‘things to do with his stepdaughter and the internet,’ Tracy Dorsey, a spokeswoman for the Rancho Cucamonga police department, told TheWrap on Wednesday.

“Asked about rumors going around Hollywood’s digital movie media circles that the 36-year-old Sanchez had drugged and raped his stepdaughter and videotaped the act, Dorsey replied: ‘We’re looking into all of those allegations.’ She stressed that no charges have been filed, and there is currently no warrant for his arrest; nor has he been classified as a missing person.

“Jamie Williams, one of Sanchez’ writers for IESB.com, resigned on Monday in a post on the site. Though the post is largely innocuous, he told TheWrap in an email Wednesday morning that he and the IESB staff were told a few weeks ago that there was a ‘family emergency/tragedy.’

“‘Then as of this past Friday evening, it was heavily implied that Robert had passed away,’ Williams wrote. ‘We agreed to stay on and help for the time being under these circumstances. It wasn’t until Monday evening we were aware of the details of Robert being on the run and his actions. And the icing on the cake was us being forwarded bills for IESB.’

“Sanchez’ whereabouts have been unknown for about three weeks, though he is not listed as a missing person.

“Sanchez lives in Alta Loma; his home phone had been disconnected. The IESB.net Twitter feed was taken down early this week.”

IESB is an acronym standing for “Inland Empire Strikes Back.”

I don’t believe that Francis Coppola was fired off Patton — i.e., relieved of screenwriting duties — solely because his 20th Century Fox bosses didn’t care for the opening speech-to-the-troops scene. (Other factors must have been in play.) But I love his message about how “the things you’re fired for when young are often the same things you’re given awards for later in life.” This bit appears on Patton DVD and Bluray.

I agree with all but one of the best shot films between ’98 and ’08 named in an American Cinematographer poll. I concur with the celebrating of Amelie, Children of Men, Saving Private Ryan, There Will Be Blood, No Country for Old Men, The Dark Knight, Road to Perdition, City of God and American Beauty…but I say “no” to Jeff Cronenweth‘s cinematography of David Fincher‘s Fight Club .

Sorry but I’ve always despised the somewhat murky, underlit look of that film — as if the negative had been soaked in a vat of cappucino mixed with guacamole and string beans. Throughout most of the film Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Helena Bonham Carter‘s skin looks greenish-gray. The last time I watched it (on Bluray) it pissed me off and made me feel depressed all over again.

Replace Fight Club with Roger Deakins‘ capturing of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford or John Toland‘s work on The Thin Red Line or Harris Savides‘ shooting of Zodiac and we’re good to go.