The early ’90s to early aughts were the heyday of director George Armitage, thanks to the critical huzzahs and decent box-office earnings generated by Miami Blues (’90) and Grosse Point Blank (’97).

Armitage began as an exploitation-level director in the ’70s. Alas, the reception to Vigilante Force (’76), a crude and schlocky drive-in flick that he wrote and directed and which subsequently tanked, earned poor George a 14-year stretch in movie jail. Then, as noted, he was out and fancy free during the ’90s.

But then Armitage wrote and directed The Big Bounce (’04), which did so poorly — $50 million to shoot, $6.8 million domestic box-office — that he was sent back to jail, and that time they threw away the key.

Vigilante Force “was the creation of writer and director George Armitage, who saw his career temporarily derailed when Vigilante Force flopped. It would take till 1990’s Miami Blues and then 1997’s Grosse Point Blank for him to get back on track, and by then it was too late for him to establish himself as anything but a cult curio with film buffs wondering what he might have achieved with more opportunities.” — from a review in the UK-based The Spinning Image.

I appreciate the daringness and vaguely lewd flavor that occasionally characterized pre-code films, but I’ve never been able to watch them with much satisfaction. The squawky soundtracks and constipated acting styles, a general lack of camera movement, a feeling that you’re watching a filmed play, etc. Cecil B. DeMille‘s Sign of the Cross (’32) is nervy in certain ways, but it’s more than a little tough to sit through.

Only the monster and gangster flicks of this era (Dracula, Frankenstein, King Kong, The Most Dangerous Game, William Wellman‘s Public Enemy, Howard Hawks‘ Scarface) are still viewable.

I’ve never seen George Fitzmaurice and Greta Garbo‘s Mata Hari (’31), and to be honest I’m still having trouble with the idea. The trailer makes it seem like an eye-rolling drag. But I’d watch it if the all-but-disappeared uncensored version (which includes a mildly exotic dance number) could somehow be transferred to Bluray.

If there could somehow be a nationwide election-day referendum on the American Khmer Rouge…if each and every voter in every state was required to answer yes or no to the question “has the wokester, howling, cancel-culture left gone completely around the bend and totally over the waterfall?”, I would vote “yes, they have.”

If the ballot question is “which is worse — the rural, Trump-supporting right (i.e., bumblefucks, belligerent cops, Proud Boys) or the anarchic, relentlessly confrontational, store-looting, around-the-bend left?”, I would answer that the right is much worse because they’ve shown they’s shown very little concern about the racist, callous, Medicare-defunding, climate-change-denying, authoritarian drift of the Trump administration, but the loony Twitter left is almost as bad because they represent a truly dangerous thing — the New McCarthyism and the rebirth of the spirit of Maximilien Robespierre.

As a friend says, “I can handle almost anything except the stifling of art and free expression, and this is what too much of the progressive left is about today.”

Seasoned critic pally, received this morning: “I’ll admit I was a latecomer to the Hitchcock fan club. After The Birds, which came out when I was 13 (I was too young to see Psycho when it came out), I didn’t see another Hitchcock until Frenzy (’72) and Family Plot (’76), which I reviewed in release as a budding critic. I wasn’t really exposed to him again until the early-mid 80s, when Universal released five Hitchcock films that had been out of circulation for a while, including Vertigo, Rear Window, The Man Who Knew Too Much and a couple of others.

“I have to say that in those mid ’80s halcyon days when MTV was ascendant and the attention span was being shattered by the music video, Hitchcock looked pretty staid to my eyes. It took a few years and the advent of home video for me to develop a serious appreciation for his work.

“Your riff on Marnie made me realize I’d never seen that (or Torn Curtain or Topaz, all of which I recall as bombs from reviews of the time). I had no interest in so-called serious films, preferring (as teens do) comedy and action. Why watch Sean Connery in Marnie when there was Goldfinger?

“So I streamed Marnie the other day, and it sucked. Pure and simple. There is no revisionist argument you can make that can forgive that central performance, which blocks the sun and is the proverbial turd in the punch bowl. Tippi Hedren makes Sofia Coppola in The Godfather, Part III look like Ingrid Bergman.

“Not that the film’s psychology makes a whit of sense. I can’t believe, incidentally, this film hasn’t been cancelled because of the casual shipboard rape during their honeymoon.”

Two months ago Deadline‘s Michael Fleming reported that Pablo Larrain (Jackie, No) had cast Kristen Stewart as the late Lady Diana in Spencer, a stand-alone drama. It fell to Hollywood Elsewhere to point out the obvious, which was that Stewart (a) doesn’t look anything like the Real McCoy and (b) is way too short to fill Diana’s shoes with Stewart being 5’5″ and the late princess having stood 5’10” or thereabouts — a perfect physical fit for Charlize Theron if she was 12 to 15 years younger.

Now comes news (from Deadline‘s Bruce Haring) that the producers of Netflix’s The Crown have swung 5 inches in the opposite direction. The stork-like Elizabeth Debicki, who stands 6’3″ without heels, has been hired to play the tragic British heroine. Which means that the men cast opposite her will probably have to stand 6’3″ themselves, if not higher. (The only boyfriend-of-Diana who was clearly shorter was Dodi Fayed.) Does Debicki at least resemble Diana Spencer? Uhm, no.

Why did the Crown producers do this? Because Debicki is a highly respected, above-average actress, of course, but I’m also guessing they wanted to display their woke credentials by striking a blow for women of all shapes and sizes, which is to say a blow against size-ism, fat-shaming and any other -ism that applies.

Am I a size-ist? Not in my day-to-day life, although I do feel that if you’re portraying a historical figure you should bear a certain resemblance, or at least that your physical properties shouldn’t be wildly at odds with the original.

This morning a producer friend wrote the following: “What is your problem with Elizabeth Debecki’s height? Jerry Hall is six feet tall, and Mick Jagger didn’t have a problem with that. And speaking of Jagger, the late designer L’Wren Scott, with whom he had a relationship, was 6’3”. And Veruschka was the same.”

Following a recent Toronto press screening, World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy has posted two reactions to Chris Nolan‘s Tenet. Here are fragments — please visit Ruimy’s site for the full magilla:

Tipster #1: “[It’s] about reversing time and righting the wrongs of the past.” [HE insert: Like Trump’s electoral victory, the making of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, the 9.11 attacks, John Lennon‘s murder and the JFK assassination?] “Clearly made for Nolan fans, [who] will love every single minute of it…his best movie since Inception. So many twists and turns [with] a puzzle-like nature to its story…very much a time-travel movie done in the most deliberately complicated of ways, [such that] I quite honestly still don’t fully grasp a few [story points]. The final scene does bring the need for multiple viewings.”

Tipster #2: “[It’s] not Dunkirk, [and] is far better than Inception and Interstellar because (a) there isn’t as much exposition, and (b) the actors — especially a stellar John David Washington and Elizabeth Debicki — actually get to act. Robert Pattinson is the cool and calm fella a la DiCaprio in Inception**. The reverse-engineering plot device is actually not that complicated — you can actually follow this movie and not get too lost. [And] the action scenes are flat-out great.”

Warner Bros. will open Nolan’s long-awaited (i.e., endlessly COVID-delayed) actioner in over 70 countries worldwide, including Europe and Canada, on Wednesday, 8.26. Next comes the U.S. on Thursday, 9.3, but only in cities that have “reopened safely”, whatever that means. Fans should probably not count on seeing it in New York City and Los Angeles, at least not initially.

Maureen Dowd’s latest column, posted on 8.15 at 2:30 pm eastern.

“Sure, I Dated Kamala Harris…So What?,” posted by former S.F. mayor and California State Assembly speaker Willie Brown on 8.11.20: “Yes, we dated. It was more than 20 years ago. Yes, I may have influenced her career by appointing her to two state commissions when I was Assembly speaker. And I certainly helped with her first race for district attorney in San Francisco. I have also helped the careers of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, Gov. Gavin Newsom, Sen. Dianne Feinstein and a host of other politicians.

“The difference is that Harris is the only one who, after I helped her, sent word that I would be indicted if I ‘so much as jaywalked’ while she was D.A.”

A typical politician would try to make things easy and smooth for a former romantic partner. It takes an exceptional, atypical politician to say “if you think I’m going to reciprocate as far as political favors are concerned, you’ve got another think coming.”

But I was frankly hoping for a Lincoln Project ad about Trump and DeJoy trying to destroy the postal system, etc. They turn these things around in 24 to 36 hours. What’s the hold-up?

Breaking: Every summer it gets a little hotter. Caused by a little thing called “climate change,” which doesn’t exist in the minds of Trump supporters. Two weeks ago many areas of Europe were besieged by temperatures around 40 centigrade, or just over 100 degrees fahrenheit. Some Parisians are saying it hasn’t been this bad since the heat wave of ’03, which, by the way, the boys and I experienced personally.

Talk about a summer of swelter. Jett had recently turned 15; Dylan was 13 and 1/2. We got through it, but barely. We had a third-floor walkup on rue Tourlaque, a block from the Cimitiere de Montmartre. A couple of days before the heat began, I slipped into a Castorama near Place de Clichy and bought three sizable fans. They restored our souls. If I hadn’t pounced when I did the fans might’ve been sold out, and we would’ve surely died.

To escape the jungle-like Paris air we decided to attend 2003 Locarno Film Festival. It began on Wednesday, 8.7.03, and closed ten days later. A smart, elegant, sophisticated gathering. Locarno is in southern Switzerland, of course, but it’s northern Italy in almost every tangible sense — culturally, atmospherically, architecturally. The gelato stands were a daily blessing.

I remember Roger Ebert‘s face being all pink and sweat-beady during an outdoor discussion panel. The guys and I were constantly soaked, of course. Every afternoon around 3 or 4 we took an hour-long dip in Lake Maggiore.

It would be one thing if WHE’s forthcoming 4K UHD Bluray of Full Metal Jacket (out 9.21) offered the 1.37:1 boxy version as well as the standard 1.85. But it doesn’t.

Please understand there is only one way to re-experience this 1987 war classic, and that’s via the HD boxy version on HBO Max. (Which I happened to watch a portion of only a day or two ago.) It is absolutely the most visually pleasing version anyone will ever see. Perfectly framed. The head room is transporting. Nothing is cleavered or trimmed. Exactly the way Kubrick wanted it.

Same deal with Universal’s forthcoming 4K Psycho — no boxy version, no buy.

Late yesterday afternoon I waited 40 minutes in a line at the Beverly Blvd. post office. Two or three people ahead of me were angry and complaining about bad service. When it was finally my turn, I asked the woman at the window if this is happening every day. Yes, she sighed. “Have you lost some personnel?” Yes, she said. “I’m sorry,” I said.