Tatiana Siegel has posted a 5.6 Hollywood Reporter piece titled “Was Sundance a ‘First Petri Dish’ of Coronavirus in the States?” Without getting into the substance of the article, which is mostly an “okay, yeah, whatever” thing, HE takes exception to Siegel’s description of Park City as a “quaint mountain oasis.” The Sundance Film Festival host city is still a mountain oasis of sorts (in a kind of sprawling, over-developed, tropic of-corporate-cancer sort of way), and you could argue that downtown Park City felt “quaint” from late ’80s to mid ’90s, although the real quaint happened during the ’60s and ’70s, before the quarter-of-an-inch-deep elitists and expansionists began to move in and send real-estate values soaring. Trust me — this aggressively liberal upscale community, which has been condo’ed and McMansioned to death over the last couple of decades, stopped being quaint during the second term of William Jefferson Clinton. If that.

The most horrific presence in It’s Outside, a short horror flick by Tim and Madelyn Wilkime, is “Simon,” the psychic medium who feels offended when he’s addressed as a mere “psychic” as well as when anyone uses the term “ghost.” The viewer immediately wants to see Simon’s head torn off or his lungs ripped out, but instead we’re forced to tolerate his presence and particularly his mincing little dweeb-voice. It’s awful.

The second worst element is the motionless guy standing in the backyard with a bedsheet over his head.

The third worst element is the overly wide aspect ratio — it should’ve been shot within a standard 2.39:1 or 1.85 a.r. Extra triple cool points if it had been shot with HE’s own 1.66:1 aspect ratio.

It’s Outside was made for the ongoing “Shelter Shorts” initiative to help raise money for the World Central Kitchen (“make a short film using what you have in your shelter and help feed those in need”).

It’s Outside from Tim Wilkime on Vimeo.

“[Trumpanzees] are not part of society as we know it. They live in a perpetual dream state, a nightmare from which they cannot awake.”

Zelda Rubinstein (who left us in 2010) played Tangina Barrons in Steven Spielberg and Tobe Hooper‘s Poltergeist (’82). The excellent voiceover is by Peggy Lewis.

The only title that would even begin to make sense would be Lick The Blood Off My Hands, but that’s a job for a dog and not Joan Fontaine.

It apparently never occured to director Norman Foster, producer Richard Vernon, screenwriters Leonardo Bercovici and Walter Bernstein or original author Gerald Butler that nobody is ever going to kiss the blood off anyone’s hands. Even if the blood is freshly spilt kissing the bloodied area wouldn’t remove it — at best you’ll create little lip-pucker impressions in the region of the wound. Blood always dries quickly and turns a dark reddish brown, and once that happens even dogs wouldn’t be able to lick it clean.

I’ve seen most of the major ’40s noirs, but I never came close to this puppy because of Butler’s title.

In a 5.5. N.Y. Times column titled “Joe Biden Would Rather Be Talking About Something Else“, neither Bret Stephens nor Gail Collins seem to understand that the Tara Reade thing is totally over.

That aside, Stephens supplies an interesting comment about Joe Biden: “[He] needs to articulate some kind of idea about his prospective presidency that is larger than ‘I’m not insane, I’ve been around, and Barack Obama likes me.’

“We are moving into a dark world of recurring outbreaks of disease and deepening depression. We may not have a vaccine for years. Thirty million-plus Americans have just lost their jobs. We are going to be more insecure, at home and abroad, than at any time in decades. Millions of businesses, particularly small ones, may go bust. Authoritarian regimes, particularly China, may be strengthened by the pandemic because they are less scrupulous about protecting the lives and health of their citizens. People are going to be tempted, even more than they were before Covid-19, by all kinds of populist or authoritarian political programs. We’ll have more to fear than fear itself.

“In other words, I don’t think Biden can win by selling himself as the second coming of George H.W. Bush when what we really need is closer to the F.D.R. mold. Not that I’m in favor of another New Deal, but we probably need a New Think.”

Greg Daniels and Steve Carell‘s Space Force (Netflix, 5.29) is a ten-episode comic miniseries. Starring Carell and costarring John Malkovich (who’s suddenly looking old, might need a Prague touch-up), Ben Schwartz, Tony Scarapiducci, Lisa Kudrow, Jane Lynch, Noah Emmerich, Fred Willard, Jessica St. Clair and — according to Wikipedia — Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

Principal photography began in Los Angeles, California on 9.26.19 and ended on 1.10.20 (pre-pandemic). Like a blend of The Office and In The Loop? The whole thing will be binge-able on opening day.

“As a scientist, you have a loyalty to reason. Makes you a little untrustworthy.”

Inmate #1: The Rise of Danny Trejo will begin streaming on digital platforms on July 7th.

When I think of this legendary mutton-faced actor I think of his “Trejo” character in Heat, and how this guy was far more problematic than the demonic Waingro (Kevin Gage) because it was Trejo who brought Waingro into the gang for that first armored-truck heist, from which all the other problems resulted.

Secondly I think of the Malcom X transformation metaphor (jailbird to restoring angel). Thirdly I think of Trejo’s Tacos, Trejo’s Cantina and Trejo’s Coffee & Donuts. Lastly I think of Machete, but mainly the first three.

No offense but I don’t remember him from Runaway Train

“Always Look On The Bright Side of Life.” the Monty Python tune initially heard in Life of Brian (’79) and later in As Good As It Gets (’97), was written with a wink. It’s not exactly a parody of the kind of song typified by George and Felix Powell‘s “Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag,” but it certainly flirts with a nudge-nudge.

And yet Art Garfunkel’s version, recorded for James L. Brooks’ 1997 film, erases any hints of irony, and in fact replaced the original “Life’s a piece of shit” lyric with the G-rqted “Life’s a counterfeit.” It’s obviously sung with sincerity. And that choir! It’s a happiness anthem.

And due respect to Cameron Douglas, grandson of Kirk and son of Michael Douglas. But if I’d been advising during the recording of this AFI Movie Club announcement, I would have gently reminded Cameron that the last syllable of Spartacus rhymes with “cuss” (i.e., as in “to curse”) or the first name of former Communist Party USA chairman Gus Hall. I’m sorry but at the :53 mark Cameron pronounces it Spartakiss, as in “kiss my ass” or Gene Simmons.

…I’m waking up without any particular excitement about what day it is, about what’s going to happen or what I need to prepare for or anything along those lines. It’s all flatline these days. Because in this hellish, suspended-animation nothingness it’s hard to believe that anything matters. A Sunday morning is a Thursday or Tuesday morning, ad infinitum.

I do the same thing every day no matter what (and I love it!), but before the pandemic there was always stuff to explore, things to attend, places to go, a bar or a restaurant to visit, a plane or a train to catch, etc.

A KL Studio Classics Bluray of A Thousand Clowns pops tomorrow, and for one brief shining moment I was reminded how much I once love the late Herb Gardner‘s dialogue.

Don’t forget that Martin Balsam won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his portrayal of Arnold Burns, the sober, boringly responsible brother of Jason Robard‘s Murray.

In a 5.4 Variety piece titled “Gladiator at 20: Russell Crowe and Ridley Scott Look Back on the Groundbreaking Historical Epic,” Crowe is quoted as follows:

“I’d read the script and I thought it wasn’t a movie. But then [Walter] Parkes said, ‘It’s 184 A.D., you’re a Roman general, and you’re going to be directed by Ridley Scott.’ And that was enough for me to want to talk to Ridley. I was just coming off the shoot of The Insider. I was gigantic. I had no hair because I had been wearing a wig on that movie, so I had shaved my head to make it more comfortable and the wigs go on quicker. I didn’t look like any Roman general.”

(l.) Russell Crowe in 1999’s The Insider; (r.) during a 2019 appearance on Howard Stern’s SIRIUS show.

With each new failed attempt to recapture the lustre of the first two Stars Wars films, the flickering flame becomes smaller, weaker, sadder. The prequels injected poison, and the sequels…well, yes, no and maybe. Is the fanbase even capable of understanding that it’s fucking over…can they get that simple fact through their thick heads? The only sensible response to the news about Taika Waititi being officially locked to direct and co-write a new Star Wars flick is “oh, Jesus God…another one?” The added blast about 1917 co-writer Krysty Wilson-Cairns co-penning the script with Waititi means nothing….less than nothing.