Jeffrey Wells

Posted earlier today on Awards Daily:

Without a permit or even a great deal of preparation, photographer Robert Sebree shot this legendary Sunset Boulevard snap of Farrah Fawcett, 52, on a warm morning in 1999.

What kind of crew did Sebree have? What was Farrah standing on? What painting was it based upon? What kind of stretch wrap? How was it lighted? How long did she pose? Any trouble with gawkers? In a 4.7.14 essay about working with Fawcett, Sebree reveals no technical shooting details at all.

Fawcett passed 10 years later from cancer, aged 62.

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Thursday update: The Sunset fire has been reportedly contained — no spreading into Laurel Canyon or the flats of West Hollywood. Thank goodness.

Last night: I’m on the other side of the country, but it feels as if this effing fire is coming for me.

Earlier this evening I finally watched the new 4K Searchers. No more complaints. Among the most beautiful VistaVision restorations ever created, and certainly equal to the recently released North by Northwest 4K disc. All hail the great Winton C. Hoch. The 70mm projected version I saw last summer at the MoMI in Astoria was nothing compared to this. Wowsah. Yowsah.

Last night at 11:14 pm I wrote the following apoplectic paragraph:

I’ll tell you what happened. Netflix spent and spent and spent some more. A whole lot more. And the Globe voters just kind of folded…whatever.

From Variety’s morning-after-the-Globes-Emilia Perez-embarrassment story by Elsa Keslassy and Alex Ritman:

The 19-word sentence that concludes the very last paragraph of Ernest Hemingway “A Farewell to Arms” is, I’ve always felt, a thing of immaculate beauty. The paragraph that contains it is also phenomenal

Was it because both critics and ticket-buyers have rated Anora much higher than Emilia Perez, and so the Golden Globe journalist voters, unhappy with this disparity, decided among themselves that they had to “correct” these mistaken opinions by putting their GG thumb on the scale?

Does it mean anything to anyone that Anora has a 94% RT critic rating vs. Perez’s 76%? Joe and Jane Popcorn have given Anora a 90% rating while dismissing Perez with a 66% score. Do these assessments mean anything to anyone?

What happened last night was sickening, not just when it cane to Anora vs. Perez but the howling, Psycho-shower-shrieking, dog-barking absurdity of handing three major awards — Best Drama, Best Director and Best Actor — to The Brutalist, Brady Corbet and Adrien Brody, respectively.

Where is the sanity in this? The Brutalist is a shot of arthouse heroin into the forearm. It makes you slumber and sink into your seat…hell, collapse inside. It’s an epic slogathon, a thoughtful downer, a punishment flick, a psychological ordeal-and-a-half if I’ve ever endured one.

Last night Corbet boasted that “nobody was asking for a three-and-half-hour film about a mid-century architect on 70 millimeter.” And that’s still the case!

But after last night’s vote of GG affirmation, we’re all waist-deep in the mud of it…stuck with this great leaden load of big-movie pretentiousness…overture, intermission, a Lawrence of Arabia-type length …a godforsaken behemoth that takes much more than it gives.

The natural, obvious presumption when a talented accomplished person takes his/her own life is that a great deal of unhappiness, frustration and probably depression preceded it. I’m very, very crushed about this. The proverbial black dog has claimed another victim. Poor Aubrey Plaza must be going through hell right now. Deeply sorry.

And this is as it should be. Because of the horrible wacko karma that Jolie created when she hatched and orchestrated the virulent anti-Brad Pitt discord within her own family. She did this, and now she owns it.

The bottom line is that henceforth the idea of hiring or otherwise working with Blake “I Love Trouble” Lively and Justin “We Will Bury You” Baldoni on a movie or limited series…the mere thought of this is generating heebie–jeebie shockwaves among producers and studio execs worldwide.

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