Jeffrey Wells

Year Late, Dollar Short

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HE apologizes to AwakenwithJP for ignoring this incredibly helpful essay for nearly a full year, and offers added apologies to inspirational woke behaviorists Chris Bumbray and Glenn Kenny for not acknowledging their invaluable example.

Special HE shout-out to L.A. Times film writer Jen Yamato — obviously not a “white person” although she seems to understand the AwakenWithJP message and posture so completely that it doesn’t seem fair to acknowledge inspirational figures without at least mentioning her Twitter sentiments.

Death Phrase

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In January 2020 I pointed out that any film in which a character emphatically says to another “you have no idea” (as in “you have no idea what you’re dealing with”) is automatically a bad film.

The 2021 equivalent of “you have no idea” is “than you can possibly imagine” — any film that contains these five words is automatically, irrevocably bad.

At 1:21 in this new trailer for Chris McKay‘s The Tomorrow War (Amazon, 7.2) , a woman says “our enemy is smarter, faster and stronger than you can possibly imagine.” That’s it…game over!

Repellent Horseshit

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I hated Sam Raimi‘s The Quick and the Dead when I saw it 26 and 1/3 years ago. I put it out of my mind and never gave it a second thought. And yet it’s astonishing how young and slender Russell Crowe seems, certainly compared to the Brumus he grew into over the last decade or so. He was 30 when the film was shot, but he looks like he’s 22 or 23. Lean and mean, babe in the woods, etc.

Gene Hackman played the same kind of dirty ruthless scoundrel that he played in Unforgiven. The difference is that the bloody finale in Clint Eastwood’s 1992 classic feels like gripping realism and not cynical, make-believe, vomit-bag movie bullshit, which is what Raimi’s film (based on a script by Simon Moore) is basically about.

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Totalitarian Woke Bitchslap of Tom Hanks

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For the sin of sounding like a compassionate, kind-hearted liberal in the matter of historical racial hatred and the ugly legacy of Tulsa, Tom Hanks should be cancelled admonished and, if you will, physically disciplined.

It is Hollywood Elsewhere’s opinion that Hanks should be lashed and banished and sent out into the desert like Moses. He should be denied bread and water within a range of 500 miles of Los Angeles in all directions.

Why? Because Hanks wrote a 6.4 N.Y. Times op-ed piece that failed to embrace Robin DiAngelo-styled anti-racism. He therefore isn’t woke enough.

So said NPR’s Eric Deggans on 6.13. Degans’ essay was titled “Tom Hanks Is A Non-Racist — It’s Time For Him To Be Anti-Racist.”

And he’s right, dammit. But first, Hanks must be made an example of. Deggans and his wokester brethren need to nip this liberal humanitarian shit in the bud. Hanks and people who think like him need to fucking learn.

Kubrick Fucked With Regardless

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…and the legacy of a great classic was soiled by the disreputable hand of producer, director, screenwriter and cinematographer Peter Hyams. 2010: The Year We Make Contact (’84) is arguably three things — the worst space-travel film ever made, the worst big-time sequel ever made, and one of the worst films ever made. No, it wasn’t former MGM honcho Jim Aubrey who pushed it through (he resigned from MGM in ’73) but David Begelman. The stink of Aubrey-ism nonetheless prevailed.

(As for the alleged Kubrick letter itself, Snopes clarifies.)

Imagine A World…

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…in which a small, scrappy, boozy John Cassevetes midlife crisis film (16 weeks in limited release) briefly out-earns the long-running Love Story and Little Big Man (popular films had “legs” then), not to mention the monumentally masterful Tora Tora Tora. Meanwhile, amid the bottom third of the list, are The Conformist, Five Easy Pieces (28th week!), Bed and Board and Get Carter. Altogether a tasty smorgasbord for the avid film buff.

Coppola’s Turtle Inn in Belize

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I was committed to being very cautious and budgetary during our Belize vacation, but Tatiana decided to splurge by staying solo at Francis and Eleanor Coppola‘s Turtle Inn in Placencia — $300 and change, and then they decided to let her stay at a $500-per-night super cottage (an elegant, handsomely furnished open-air hut with a raised ceiling and a peak roof covered by native grass).

Journo pally who’s stayed at Turtle Inn: “It really is something close to paradise there — so calm, lovely beach, great for getting out to the islands, fine food, etc. I don’t usually do ‘relaxed’ vacations like this — usually we’re on the move, seeing and doing stuff and we certainly checked out the nearby caves, jungle, etc. — but Turtle Inn was great.”

HE to Journo Pally: “It’s interesting that there’s no conspicuous signage announcing the word ‘turtle’ — there’s only some finely sculpted shrubbery in the front that spells it out, but the shrubbery certainly doesn’t announce itself to the passing motorist.

“I love the Balinese interior design…the deep, rich mahogany wood grain. Tasteful, non-Kardashian luxury of a very high order. It was sweltering hot during our two days in Placencia. Turtle Inn has no air conditioning, and yet it was pleasant inside Tatiana’s peak-roof cabana.

“Alas, I’m not wealthy or even temporarily flush enough to afford to stay there. Way beyond my pay grade. Tatiana’s decision to splurge and indulge was entirely her own.

“I found a perfectly satisfactory, air-conditioned upstairs apartment in town inside a complex called Cozy Corners, which had a delightful bar-restaurant on the beach.”

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“There Goes The HBO Max Theory” — Ruimy

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Some may not be familiar with typical HBO Max numbers, or the difference between strong, decent and shitty levels of viewership. It’s my understanding that 693K viewers of In The Heights last weekend is somewhere between disappointing and shitty. I do know that Godzilla vs. Kong did a hell of a lot better over the first five days.

I invite any and all comments, but the theatrical reality has apparently been reiterated by streaming figures — outside of progressive wokester types and the good friends of Indiewire‘s Eric Kohn, relatively few people were interested in seeing In The Heights. (Thanks to World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy.)

After 42 Years, Return to “Friendly Fire”

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Last night I paid my respects to the late Ned Beatty by watching Friendly Fire, a 1979 TV docudrama about the increasing revulsion shared by the real-life Peg and Gene Mullen (Carol Burnett, Beatty) after the mystifying death of their son Michael (Dennis Erdman) while serving in Vietnam.

Army reps tell the Mullens that Michael’s death was a “friendly fire” accident, but they’re stingy with facts. This fudging of specifics annoys, irritates and then enrages the Mullens. Traditional patriotic Iowans at the start, they gradually evolve into antiwar activists.

There’s no big shocking twist at the end — we simply discover that Michael died from “friendly” shrapnel that exploded near his foxhole due to a miscalculation. So Friendly Fire is not Costa Gavras‘s Missing (’82) — there’s no satisfying “gotcha” moment in which the military “bad guys” are revealed as guilty super-shits, and are then punished or shamed. None of that happens.

The movie isn’t brilliant — it’s lean and direct but it lacks a certain elegance. It feels like a rough cut, or a second cut — certainly not like a polished final cut. But it’s a reasonably good film.

Burnett and Beatty are brilliant in every scene — Burnett in particular.

Friendly Fire wound up winning four Emmy awards. Fay Kanin‘s screenplay was adapted from C. D. B. Bryan‘s 1976 book of the same name, which began as a series of New Yorker magazine articles Bryan had written about the Mullens.

I really hated Erdman’s dialogue as well as his performance. We get to know him a bit during the first 15 minutes or so, and he’s presented as way too modest and dutiful…almost angelic. The movie is telling us that Michael was an all–but–perfect fellow — smart, reasonable, soft-spoken, inspired, modest. He feels like a cypher, and I was saying to myself early on that I was glad he’d be dead soon because I can’t stand characters who are this pure of heart, this pure-as-the-driven-snow.

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