Apologies for not posting the exciting news about Robert Eggers‘ The Lighthouse playing under the Directors’ Fortnight banner in Cannes next month. Eggers’ last film, The Witch, is among the five greatest elevated horror films of the 21st Century; The Lighthouse, shot on 35mm black-and-white film and costarring Robert (“RPatz”) Pattinson and Willem Dafoe, is also elevated horror.
A24 calls it a “fantasy horror story set in the world of old sea-faring myths.”
Hollywood Elsewhere is presuming that the source of the horror will never be seen. If it’s shown it’ll be a goblin, ghost or sea creature of some kind. I’m personally leaning toward a sea creature — something without hands or feet, something slick and slithery like a seal, something that squeals. It’s a safe bet that it won’t resemble Guillermo del Toro‘s Creature From the Love Lagoon.
Tweet #1: “I hate admitting this, considering my partly (mostly) negative history with MCU, but Avengers: Endgame is pretty damn decent. A lot better than I thought it would be. Not just a geek-out. And yes, it DOES get you emotionally. I didn’t choke up, but I get why others have.”
Tweet #2: “I guess I could go farther than ‘pretty damn decent’. It’s an expert blend of high-end mythology, ultra-clever writing & breathtaking, super-swanky escapism by way of the Movie Godz. Endgame has definitely joined my MCU pantheon along with AntMan, the first two CaptainAmerica installments, etc.”
“Yes, Avengers: Endgame is the most expansive film yet, and yes, it strives to provide emotional catharses for several of fans’ favorite characters. It’s even safe to say that Endgame shifts the focus from extravagant, effects-driven displays of universe-saving — manifold though they remain — to the more human cost of heroism, which comes at great personal sacrifice.
“That said, readers should also be warned that Avengers: Endgame hinges on the most frustrating of narrative tricks, and that no meaningful analysis of the film can take place without delving into some of the choices made by the Russo brothers and screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely.
“If Infinity War was billed as a must-see event for all moviegoers, whether or not they’d attended a single Marvel movie prior, then Endgame is the ultimate fan-service follow-up, so densely packed with pay-offs to relationships established in the previous films that it all but demands that audiences put in the homework of watching (or re-watching) a dozen earlier movies to appreciate the sense of closure it offers the series’ most popular characters.” — from Peter Debruge‘s Variety review, posted at 3 pm today.
Seriously and without checking, the top-of-my-head contenders are Pete Buttigieg, Bernie Sanders, Kamala Harris, Beto O’Rourke, probably Joe Biden, Cory Booker, Elizabeth Warren, Kirsten Gillibrand, Tulsi Gabbard, Amy Mean-To-Her-Subordinates, Julian Castro…that’s all I can think of. Eleven. Wait, John Hickenlooper for twelve!
Okay, now I’m looking it up and finding the names of Andrew Yang, Tim Ryan, Marianne Williamson, Eric Swallwell, Wayne Messam, Seth Moulton, Jay Inslee, Mike Gravel, John Delaney. A total of 21.
Ten months from now only five will be standing: Buttigieg, Sanders, Harris, O’Rourke and Biden. If and when Harris can’t cut the mustard (and I’m only saying she might not prevail), the #TimesUp and #MeToo genderists will freak out and throw around charges of a patriarchal conspiracy.
Biden, I predict, will gaffe himself to death and withdraw after the California primary. Sanders is a total pain in the ass, and his followers are worse…how to get rid of him?
Name the Seven Dwarves without checking: Dopey, Sleazy, Doc, Bashful, Grumpy…I’m stuck.
“Semi”-novel because Rian Johnson sorta kinda got there first. In Looper, it was Young Joe (Joseph Gordon Levitt) vs. Old Joe (Bruce Willis), but their face-time meetings happened through time travel. In Ang Lee and Jerry Bruckheimer‘s Gemini Man (Paramount, 10.11), Will Smith‘s Henry Brogen, a salt-and-pepper assassin, confronts “Junior” (also played by Smith), a genetic copy with a younger cell structure.
One of the Gemini Man differences is that the older and younger versions seem to actually deal with the heavy-ness of their situation (not to mention the gobsmacking irony and wisdom-perspective stuff), while Looper pretty much kept things tactical.
From “Looper Dooper,” posted on 9.6.12: “The biggest disappointment, for me, is that the great haunting concept of an older guy (Bruce Willis) being able to give counsel to his younger, stupider, less wise self (Joseph Gordon Levitt) has been almost completely ignored, and that’s really a shame.
“On top of which Levitt’s made-up, CG-fortified Willis face is weirdly unformed and gets in the way of any potential investment. We all know what Willis looked like when he was costarring in Moonlighting and their faces, his and Levitt’s, just don’t match or seem even vaguely from the same family or country, even. The effect doesn’t work. Johnson should have cast Willis in both roles and CG’ed and de-aged him for his younger-self scenes.”
Keep in mind that Gemini Man was stuck in development hell for 14 or 15 years before Looper came along. Wiki excerpt: “Originally conceived in 1997, the film went through development hell for nearly 20 years. Several directors, including Tony Scott, Curtis Hanson and Joe Carnahan, were all attached at some point and numerous actors, including Harrison Ford, Mel Gibson, Clint Eastwood and Sean Connery, were set to star.”
No thumbs-up hosannahs or celebrations until Hollywood Elsewhere sits through Avengers Endgame later today. You’ve read about fans sniffling here and there? Sincere pledge: If and when a scene even slightly nudges in the direction of lump-in-the-throat, I will say so without skipping a beat. My heart tingles at the thought of watching all these suited-up, handsomely compensated, impossibly smug actors ACTING with their patented dry-ironic deliveries. And oh, the Thanos pushback.
Down on my knees, begging. Just kill Robert Downey Jr.-slash-Tony Stark and shut him up for good. Forever. Until the end of time. Is that so much to ask?
Only Hollywood Elsewhere delivers the straight ramrod truth about the MCU. Ant Man forever, the first two Captain America installments (especially Joe Johnston‘s original), the first Iron Man and that’s pretty much all she wrote. Remember all the girly Black Panther whooping and cheering? But after it premiered and press-screened the clamor all settled down. Good spiritual Marvel film as far as it went (at least during the final hour), but everyone gradually calmed down. Same deal every time.
My initial reaction (posted on 2.28.24) was that “nobody and I mean nobody can ‘play’ Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr. No matter who Mendes chooses to hire, it simply won’t work. Their faces and voices are too deeply embedded in every corner of our minds to convincingly replicate or even half-replicate in a narrative format.”
I’m nonetheless intrigued by the ambition behind the Mendes-Beatles project, particularly the idea of releasing all four films in tandem in 2027. You can’t accuse Mendes and Sony chief Tom Rothman of undue caution or timidity.
I was actually too generous in calling it “a marginally effective, vaguely muffled chick-flick account of Lennon’s teenage years in Liverpool, circa 1956 to ’60.
“I’m not calling it dull, exactly, but Nowhere Boy‘s somewhat feminized, all-he-needs-is-love story just didn’t turn me on.
“Matt Greenhalgh‘s script is based on a memoir called ‘Imagine This‘ by Lennon’s half-sister Julia Baird.
“I understand that this love and rejection were key issues in Lennon’s youth, but the film didn’t sell me on this. It seemed to be frittering away its time by focusing on it. Lennon’s anguish was primal enough (‘Mother, you had me but I never had you’) but my reaction all through it was, ‘Okay, but can we get to the musical stuff, please?’
“Nowhere Boy boasts a relatively decent lead performance by Aaron Johnson. He doesn’t overdo the mimicry and keeps his Liverpudlian accent in check. And yet it’s a somewhat overly sensitive, touchy-feely rendering of a rock ‘n’ roll legend who was known, after all, for his nervy, impudent and sometimes caustic manner, at least in his early incarnations.
“I didn’t believe the hurting look in Johnson’s eyes. All those looking-for-love feelings he shows are too much about ‘acting,’ and hurt-puppy-dog expressions don’t blend with the legend of the young Lennon (as passed along by biographies, articles, A Hard Day’s Night etc.) Emotionally troubled young guys tend to get crusty and defensive when there’s hurt inside, and this was certainly Lennon’s deal early on.
“And Johnson is needlessly compromised, I feel, by a curious decision on Taylor-Wood’s part to create her own, reality-defying physical version of Lennon. She ignores the fact that he had light brown, honey-colored hair by allowing Johnson to keep his own dark-brown, nearly-jet-black hair. Nor did she have Johnson wear a prosthetic nose — one of the oldest and easiest tricks in the book — in order to replicate Lennon’s distinctive English honker. Where would the harm have been if they’d tried to make Johnson look more like the real McCoy?”
HE commenter #1: “This portrait of Lennon seems to be far too cuddly to be credible. From what I’ve read, he had a mile-wide cruel streak, was more than a bit of a brawler and, if Albert Goldman is to be believed, almost beat another man to death for making a pass at him.
HE commenter #2: “Actually I think the movie makes Lennon look like the world’s biggest twat. Which he may have been, but when you remove all the context of who he becomes, then it’s just an annoying, unpleasant watch. There’s very few redeeming qualities about this film, and Johnson’s noxious portrayal didn’t help things.”
Now that Sam Taylor-Wood‘s Nowhere Boy (Icon/Weinstein, 10.8) is finally opening, here’s an abridged recap of my original 10.29.09 review. I called it “a marginally effective, vaguely muffled chick-flick account of John Lennon‘s teenage years in Liverpool, circa 1956 to ’60. I’m not calling it dull, exactly, but Nowhere Boy‘s somewhat feminized, all-he-needs-is-love story just didn’t turn me on.
“Matt Greenhalgh‘s script is based on a memoir called ‘Imagine This‘ by Lennon’s half-sister Julia Baird. I understand that this was the key issue of Lennon’s youth, but the film didn’t sell me on this, and in fact seemed to be frittering away its time by focusing on it. Lennon’s anguish was primal enough (‘Mother, you had me but I never had you,’ etc.) but my reaction all through it was, ‘Okay, but can we get to the musical stuff, please?’
“Nowhere Boy boasts a relatively decent lead performance by Aaron Johnson. He doesn’t overdo the mimicry and keeps his Liverpudlian accent in check. And yet it’s a somewhat overly sensitive, touchy-feely rendering of a rock ‘n’ roll legend who was known, after all, for his nervy, impudent and sometimes caustic manner, at least in his early incarnations.
“I didn’t believe the hurting look in Johnson’s eyes. All those looking-for-love feelings he shows are too much about ‘acting,’ and hurt-puppy-dog expressions don’t blend with the legend of the young Lennon (as passed along by biographies, articles, A Hard Day’s Night etc.) Emotionally troubled young guys tend to get crusty and defensive when there’s hurt inside, and this was certainly Lennon’s deal early on.
“And Johnson is needlessly compromised, I feel, by a curious decision on Taylor-Wood’s part to create her own, reality-defying physical version of Lennon. She ignores the fact that he had light brown, honey-colored hair by allowing Johnson to keep his own dark-brown, nearly-jet-black hair. Nor did she have Johnson wear a prosthetic nose — one of the oldest and easiest tricks in the book — in order to replicate Lennon’s distinctive English honker. Where would the harm have been if they’d tried to make Johnson look more like the real McCoy?”
Rachel Lears‘ Knock Down The House (Netflix, 5.1) isn’t just an AOC thing; it also focuses on three other upstart progressive candidates — West Virginia’s Paula Jean Swearengin, St. Louis nurse Cori Bush, and Nevada’s Amy Vilela.
But as Variety‘s Amy Nicholsonwrote last January, “You can’t blame [the film] for seizing on its good fortune to have begun following Ocasio-Cortez’s campaign even before the 28-year-old waitress earned her name on the ballot.
“AOC needed slightly more than 1,000 signatures to qualify; she gathered 10,000, under the assumption that the election board — all of whom, she notes, were appointed by Crowley — would toss out as many as possible. Overperformance is her mantra. ‘For every 10 rejections, you get one acceptance, and that’s how you win everything,’ she insists to her niece as they hand out flyers on the sidewalk.
“Lears’ access to Ocasio-Cortez’s six month campaign is incredible. “Knock Down the House is there as she puts on her makeup, lugs ice at her day job (where she appears to fix a mean margarita), frets that her voice goes up an octave when she gets nervous, and sighs that male candidates need only two outfits: a suit or a shirt with rolled-up sleeves. [And] Lears is there in the cramped, sloppy apartment Ocasio-Cortez shares with her supportive boyfriend, and at that first debate with Crowley where he didn’t even bother to show up.
“As Crowley’s proxy fumblingly defends his vote for the Iraq War, Ocasio-Cortez rallies the crowd to her side, and afterward they crush around her with their individual concerns as though no one’s bothered to listen to them for years. Crowley shows up for the second and third debates, where Lears observes a comedy payoff: The veteran representative, realizing this young woman is winning over the room, anxiously rolls up his sleeves.”
A rousing one-two-three awaits — Long Shot tonight (finally!), Avengers Endgame tomorrow afternoon on the Disney lot (maybe not so rousing), and then Booksmart on Wednesday evening.
My attention is divided right now between tapping out stories and trying to figure out which HDMI cables belong in which receptacles, and what the hell seems to be wrong with my big, fat Marantz AVR — by far the heaviest, biggest component. The audio-visual sources are (a) a 4K Roku player, (b) a 4K Apple TV, (c) a 4K Samsung Bluray player, (4) a pipsqueak Sony 4K Bluray player and (5) the cable TV hook-up. The problem is that there are only four (4) HDMI receptacles on the TV. (Maybe if I ditch the Roku player and just use the Apple TV?) I figured this out before — I don’t know what my problem is this time. Half of me hates struggling with this stuff; the other half derives profound satisfaction from getting it right.
Hugs and condolences to friends and colleagues of Anonymous Content founder and producer Steve Golin, who passed yesterday from cancer at age 64. Obviously way too young, but a life well lived.
How else to describe a guy who produced or significantly assisted Spotlight, The Revenant, Babel, Beasts of No Nation, Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot, Boy Erased, Being John Malkovich, The Game, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, et. al.?
Only in the 21st Century film industry can you say with a straight face that a departed professional was “burdened with good taste,” but that was Golin for you. Inexorably drawn to quality-level projects, constitutionally incapable of producing crap and always with the reddish complexion, no hair to speak of, squinty eyes and grubby salt-and-pepper whiskers, Golin lugged good taste around like a bent-over mail carrier…like Charles Bukowski in the ’50s. But he never backed off, and producing ambitious, first-rate, critically hailed films was also his pride and levitation.
Steve’s big hallelujah moment happened in early ’16 when Spotlight won the Best Picture Oscar.
I last ran into Steve at the 2015 Middleburg Film Festival, when he was repping and taking bows for The Revenant and Spotlight. We talked for 35 or 40 minutes in a shuttle van between Dulles and Middleburg. He was a hustler, of course, like any good producer, but he seemed to really understand and believe in the transformative power of great filmmaking.
The film industry could use a lot more Steve Golins, and now it has one less.
Sorry for bailing after yesterday’s Apocalypse Now: Final Cut post, but a sizable load of stuff from back east (motorcycle, big TV, boxes, glass-framed photos) arrived yesterday afternoon around 3 pm, and there was a lot to unpack. Hours and hours. I was telling myself, “This is your chance to finally arrange the Blurays in alphabetical order. You just have to summon the discipline…just a little extra effort.” Did I do this? Of course not.
