Legend of Sylvia Miles

Michael Musto is reporting that the relentless Sylvia Miles — flamboyant New York personality and club-crawler first, spunky pitbull actress second — has passed at age 94. Condolences to friends, family, fans & all surviving 20th Century Manhattan vampires.

Acting-wise Miles peaked a half-century ago when she won a Best Supporting Actress nomination for playing “Cass” in John Schlesinger‘s Midnight Cowboy (’69); she was nominated for the same trophy six years later for a performance in Farewell, My Lovely (’75). Post-Cowboy the Miles performance that seemed to register the strongest was “Sally Todd,” a kind of Norma Desmond-like figure, in Paul Morrissey‘s Heat (’72). Joe Dallessandro played “Joe”, the studly William Holden-ish hustler in a speedo.

She also played “Doris the realtor” twice for Oliver Stone, initially in Wall Street (’87) and then Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (’10).

Miles was a permanent Manhattan nightlife fixture from the mid ’60s until…what, the early aughts? For decades she hobknobbed and kibbitzed with every New Yorker who mattered (and a lot who didn’t). In her ’70s and ’80s heyday the legend was that Miles and Andy Warhol “would attend the opening of an envelope.” I ran into her two or three times in the late ’70s and ’80s, and what of it? She never paused, never stopped.

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Universal Basic Income

The first tenet of presidential candidate Marianne Williamson‘s economic plan is IMMEDIATE CASH RELIEF WITH A UNIVERSAL BASIC INCOME, to wit: “The federal government [would] pay $1,000/month Universal Basic Income to all American adults aged 18-65. This will provide immediate cash relief to those who need it. It will give people a small but reliable stream of income. It will create a floor so no American needs to be hungry. It will also provide a big stimulus to the economy as people spend this money on food, clothes and other essentials. This Universal Basic Income will cover all adults until they reach the age for Social Security.”

On the face of it this sounds like a half-decent deal. It would definitely pump vigor into the economy and give people a floor of some kind. Andrew Yang is another big UBI proponent. So how would this break down?

One estimate says that the U.S population between ages 15 and 64 is 206,211,663. Let’s say Yang and Williamson would decide to fork over a $1K per month check to 205 million citizens. (Although the figure would be lower.) The one-month tab for this expenditure would come to $205 billion. Multiply this by twelve and you’re talking an annual expenditure of $2,460,000,000,000, or two trillion, four hundred sixty billion.

The total spending for the U.S. budget for 2018 was nearly $4.1 trillion. The total GDP (gross domestic product) for 2018 was $20.237 trillion.

“Our Daughter Is Dead, Dead, Dead”

Four and 1/3 years ago Criterion released a digitally restored Bluray (1080p but sourced from a 4K scan) of Nicolas Roeg‘s Don’t Look Now. It was approved by the late director Nicolas Roeg (who died last November) and featured an uncompressed monaural soundtrack. By the digital standards of 2015, it was the finest, richest rendering of this spooky classic ever seen.

But it’s not good enough any more! Because on 7.29 Studio Canal will issue a brand new 4K restoration of Roeg’s film on an actual 4K UHD disc. It’ll be part of a 4-disc Collector’s Edition with both a UHD and Bluray version, plus a Bluray bonus disc with brand-new extras “and the original haunting Pino Donnagio CD soundtrack.”

Boilerplate: StudioCanal tecchies “went back to the original camera negative which was scanned at 4K resolution in 16bit and created the following: 4K DCP, UHD version and a new HD version which were produced with the same high technological standards as today’s biggest international film releases. The restoration and new UHD version was colour-graded and approved in London by the BAFTA Award-winning cinematographer, Anthony B Richmond.”

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Most Blatant Cinematic Fakeout of 21st Century?

Toronto Star critic Peter Howell is one of the very few who understands the Sharon Stone gambit in Martin Scorsese‘s Rolling Thunder Revue (Netflix, now playing):

Vanity Fair‘s Mike Hogan and NPR critic Ann Powers understand, but Globe and Mail critic Barry Hertz isn’t quite sure. After mentioning Stone, he writes that she “maybe, or maybe not, was spotted by Dylan early during the tour, and asked to join to do…well, it’s never quite clear.”

After posting an initial review that showed he’d been hoodwinked, Indiewire‘s David Ehrlich (along with Chris O’Falt and Zack Sharf) has co-authored a piece that discusses the Stone con. The article is titled “Debunking the Four Big Lies at the Heart of Martin Scorsese’s ‘Rolling Thunder Revue’.”

In his review, Vulture‘s Craig Jenkins writes that “some of this shit never happened, and it’s tricky to tell what’s what.” He notes that Martin von Haselberg and Michael Murphy are fakers but he doesn’t mention Stone, thereby indicating he probably thought her quotes were legit.

To judge by his review, Empire‘s Ian Freer has also been taken in.

Guardian critic Peter Bradshaw, who rarely misses a trick, doesn’t seem to get it either:

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Michelle Sidesteps It

The gist of Michelle Pfeiffer‘s complaint is that while bathing in a flush hotel suite she accidentally washed her hair with laundry detergent and used a face-cleanser as a cream rinse. It’s ironic that she’s wearing glasses in this video since the absence of same is the nub of it. The problem is that unless over-45 types take a shower with their glasses on or contact lenses inserted, they can’t read the labels on those stupid little plastic bottles in the shower. It’s that simple. Solution: A braille system — shampoo bottles need to be square, conditioners need to be oval and so on.

Old Refrain

[Around 7:10 mark] “Far-left political correctness is a cancer on progressivism. When you talk to Trump supporters, they are not blind to his myriad flaws, but one thing they always say is ‘[at least] he’s not politically correct.’ I don’t think you can overestimate how much people have been choking on political correctness and hating it. There were two recent studies about this recently, in a N.Y. Times front-page story and in The Atlantic about a year ago. The vast majority of liberals in this country hate it…they think political correctness has gone way too far…no one likes to be living on eggshells.”

Chased By Dark Cloud

Sometime in his mid teens Anton Yelchin was told he had cystic fibrosis, a lung disease that ensured he wouldn’t live past his early 40s and perhaps not even his late 30s. Yelchin understandably hid this information from everyone, but what a thing to live with…good God.

“Few of his costars were aware of his struggles, though dozens of them show up here to sing his praises. Kristen Stewart describes how he ‘kinda broke my heart’ when the two were teenagers. Simon Pegg warmly labels him ‘a little dirt bird’ for his nocturnal photo shoots at Van Nuys sex clubs. And Willem Dafoe recalls commiserating with Yelchin over his anxieties about losing his hair, which, in a profession that strives to project eternal youth, was more than a matter of simple vanity.” [HE interjection: Two or three trips to Prague — problem solved.]

“Directed by Garret Price, Love, Antosha [paints] a touching and surprising portrait of an actor who had much more going on in his life than was mentioned in his obituaries. The Yelchin we see here was a devoted son, an almost fanatically committed actor (he amassed a remarkable 69 acting credits), a blues guitarist, a photographer of lurid fetish clubs, and an intellectually adventurous budding artist who could well have added several more entries to that resume.” — from Andrew Barker’s 9.29.19 Variety review.

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Perfect Coordination

I was instantly impressed when I came upon this photo last night. The canary yellow sweater against the greenish tweed jacket, white pants, light blue shirt and black tie. I’m guessing that the shoes are brown with…what, black socks? Or blue-ish gray? It’s perfect. Was Stewart a beau brummell on his own steam or did he have a fashion consultant? I’m guessing this was taken sometime after Destry Rides Again but before The Philadelphia Story.

“A Descent Into Hell”

Michael Wolff six days ago: “I think it gets crazier and crazier…Donald Trump is more isolated, more alone…as we see this dominant personalty, I think this a story of a meltdown, one of the greatest political meltdowns of all time…it ends in tears, Donald Trump‘s tears. Let’s put it this way. I put it to Steve [Bannon]…I referred to the possibility of Trump getting another term and winning re-election, and Steve said ‘stop’.”

Son of Bring Back The Pup

Every five years or so I remind everyone that idiosyncratic home-grown commercial storefronts from the old days are as much a vital part of Los Angeles culture as any standard tourist attraction (Hollywood Bowl, movie-star homes in Beverly Hills and Bel Air, Santa Monica Pier, Venice Beach). And that it’s important to keep them alive and visible.

I’m speaking of the gone-but-not-forgotten Tail of The Pup, which disappeared from its last location (San Vicente and Beverly Blvd.) in 2005. As well as Tower Records, the shuttered Formosa Cafe, the long-defunct Tiny Naylor’s and the permanently closed Irv’s Burgers of West Hollywood.

Obviously we still have Astro Burger, Mel’s Drive-in on Sunset, Pink’s, the original Farmer’s Market, Genghis Cohen, Cole’s French Dip sandwiches, Kindle’s Big Doughnut, Chez Jay in Santa Monica and so on.

Tail O’ the Pup was an iconic fast-food stand that was actually shaped like a hot dog. Built in 1946, the small, walk-up stand was noted as a prime example of “mimetic”-type novelty architecture. It was one of the very last surviving mid-20th century buildings that were built in the shapes of the products they sold. The kids and I laughingly agreed in the mid ’90s that Tail of the Pup’s representation of a mustard-lathered dog on a bun looked (I’m sorry) like a bowel movement in progress.

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Martin Scorsese’s “The Deceived”

A significant percentage of film critics didn’t realize that Sharon Stone‘s testimony in Martin Scorsese‘s Rolling Thunder Revue is fictional. I’ve personally spoken to a pair of top-tier critics who went “the fuck?” when I told them Stone was one of the four hoodwinkers. Notice the seemingly doctored photo of Stone getting Dylan’s autograph during the Rolling Thunder tour, which is used in the doc.

BTW: Indiewire‘s David Ehrlich, with whom I communicated last night, has so far declined to change a line in his review that clearly indicates he thought the Stone story was legit. Toward the end of paragraph #10, Ehrlich mentions “Dylan’s run-ins with a 19-year-old actress named Sharon Stone (sure to be an eyebrow-raising surprise for some viewers).”

Ehrlich didn’t even get the age right. Born on 3.10.58, Stone was 17 when the first leg of the tour was underway. Even if she ran into Dylan during the second leg in the spring of ’76 she would have been 18.

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