“Coup de Chance” Almost Finished in Paris

Woody Allen‘s well-reviewed Coup de Chance opened in Paris cinemas only three weeks ago (Wednesday, 9.27), and yet, according to veteran critic Marshall Fine, who just arrived in Paris a day or so ago with his wife, Allen’s film isn’t playing anywhere in town.

I’m informed that the film is actually playing in four Paris theatres as we speak, but perhaps not for much longer.

I checked earlier and found it wasn’t even playing at the Left Banke repertory houses in the Sorbonne/Pantheon district (Le Champo, Studio Galande, Le Studio Luxembourg, Les 3 Luxembourg?

And it’s not streaming on JustWatch either. Odd.

Gaza Hospital Bombing Caused By “An Islamic Jihad Rocket”

“I can confirm that an analysis of the IDF operational system indicates that the barrage of rockets in Gaza, passing in close proximity to the al-Ahli Hospital in Gaza at the time it was hit…intelligence from [a] few sources that we have in our hands indicates that the Islamic Jihad is responsible for the failed rocket launch which hit the hospital in Gaza” — Israeli military spoikesperson.

From N.Y. Times reporters Julian E. Barnes, Adam Entous and Helene Cooper: “American officials say they have multiple strands of intelligence — including infrared satellite data — indicating that the deadly blast at a Gaza hospital on Tuesday was caused by an armed Palestinian group.

“The intelligence includes satellite and other infrared data showing a launch of a rocket or missile from Palestinian fighter positions within Gaza. American intelligence agencies have also analyzed open-source video of the launch showing that it did not come from the direction of Israeli military positions, the officials said.”

Don’t Hand Me That Crap

In yesterday’s “Week-Long Ear Bug” riff, I shared the following observation: “Taylor Swift does what she does very well or least very successfully, but Joni Mitchell’s eclectic mode of expression (or a facsimile) just isn’t in her. She’ll never get there. Mitchell’s stuff is alluring, sexy, sophisticated, nectary, lasting — Swift songs are candy.”

In response to which the often annoying Michael DeGregorio wrote that “since Jeff Wells, a noted music critic who is intimately knowledgeable about song writing and lyric writing, has deemed it so it must be so.”

And then the equally annoying Glenn Runciter added this: “It’s not really a surprise that everyone who really values music will hold tight to the music of their youth and decouple from contemporary music when they reach a certain age. It’s not always a ‘get off my lawn’ kind of thing, but go on a music forum and you’ll see this writ large. Zero sum attitudes about music is such a waste of time.”

HE to Runciter: “How DARE you try to characterize my Mitchell-over-Swift preference as a ‘music of my youth’ thing? How fucking rote or lazy or lethargic do you have to be to default to a cliche like that?

“I’ve been listening to (for lack of a better term) crème de la crème music all my life. Most of what’s been recorded or live-performed over the last century is okay, approvable, marginal or negligible — finding the really and truly awesome, aspirational, soul-touching stuff is a needle-in-a-haystack exercise or adventure or both. How many tens of thousands of rock songs and Broadway musical tunes and serious orchestral compositions and live performances and choice recordings (including Chumbawamba, Bernard Herrmann, Django Reinhardt, Devo, The Who, George Gershwin, The Feelies, Patti Smith, Hank Williams, the Troggs, Caribbean island music, the Irish Chieftains, Graham Parsons, Gustav Mahler, Blondie, Television, Stephen Sondheim, Lou Reed, David Johansen, Miklos Rozsa, Godly the Ruler and the great Mose Allison) and movie-score tracks do you have to fucking listen to over the decades to acquire a trustworthy sense of what’s mostly good and what’s mostly crap?

I sat through an hour’s worth of Swift’s concert film last Thursday evening. Her songs aren’t even catchy and are pretty much on the level of Good ‘n’ Plenty; Mitchell’s are pricey and succulent Swiss chocolate. There’s really no debating this.

Persistence of Marketing

Friendo: “A grieving widower appears on TV to lament his wife’s passing, but also to push a website and products he’ll continue to sell. The average person is too obtuse these days to see what a cynical move this is. This is Elmer Gantry stuff. Alan Hamel pushed products and a website and claimed in this chat with Today‘s co-hosts that his late wife, barely dead a couple of days, wanted women to keep buying ‘incredible’ products. This is a eulogy delivered via QVC.”

Week-Long Ear Bug

Eight or nine days ago I listened to a newly released version of Joni Mitchell‘s “See You Sometime” from “Joni Mitchell Archives, Vol. 3: The Asylum Years (1972-1975).”

And it won’t let me go. I’m hearing it over and over…car, shower, writing, walking, shopping. The only way to discharge a pernicious ear bug is to simply tough it out through dozens of listenings….eventually it’ll run out of gas.

This song is not one of Mitchell’s all-time greatest, but I can tell you one thing: There’s no way Taylor Swift will ever write or perform a song anywhere near as gentle, complex, delicate, intimate, poetic and melodically moody as “See You Sometime.”

Swift does what she does very well or least very successfully, but Mitchell’s eclectic mode of expression (or a facsimile) just isn’t in her. She’ll never get there. Mitchell’s stuff is alluring, sexy, sophisticated, nectary, lasting — Swift songs are candy.

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Reverse Magritte

Jonathan Glazer‘s The Zone of Interest has been shorn of explicitness while humming with implication. That’s the basic idea, and either this approach knocks you flat or it doesn’t. It’s a “brilliant” film as far as its austere design allows it to go, but the only thing that really got me was the opening overture — intense “oh, shit” music played over a black background before light invades and the film begins.

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The Day The Tables Turned

Osage Nation language consultant Christopher Cote on Killers of the Flower Moon: “This story is almost being told from the perspective of [Leonardo DiCaprio‘s] Ernest Burkhart, and they kinda give him this conscience and it kind of depicts that there’s love [between Ernest and Lily Gladstone‘s Mollie]. But when somebody conspires to murder your entire family, that’s not love….that’s not love. That’s just beyond abuse.”

Obviously with Christopher taking issue with a key dramatic choice made by DiCaprio, Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Eric Roth and with Jeff Sneider also balking, Killers of the Flower Moon is clearly in trouble. (And so is Gladstone although she may not know it yet.) For those who think Oppenheimer is the cat’s meow, Cote and Sneider have given them reason to feel comfort.

@hollywoodreporter #osagenation language consultant christopher cote shares his complicated feelings about #martinscorsese’s #killersofthesunflowermoon #killersoftheflowermoonmovie ♬ original sound – The Hollywood Reporter

Some Love Cringe Comedies

But they’re obviously called “cringe comedies” for a reason, and for this very reason I’ve never been a fan of the sub-genre. But of all the cringe comedies, the one I admire the most is Elaine May‘s The Heartbreak Kid (’72).

The 2007 Ben Stiller remake missed the mark but May’s original holds up. And this January ’23 tribute piece, voiced by CineMollusk, hits the nail on the head.

Carrying the narrative ball is Lenny Cantrow (Charles Grodin), “possibly the emptiest man on earth” and a guy who discovers with a startling jolt that he can’t stand his new bride (Jennie Berlin) as he watches her eat an overstuffed egg-salad sandwich…”a film with “an irredeemably black heart…a relentless examination of an empty world full of empty people.”

Endings That Have Melted Me Down A Little

My eyes never moistened at the endings of The Iron Giant, Monsters, Inc., The Fox And The Hound, Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King, Schindler’s List, The Green Mile, Big Fish, Coco, Forrest Gump, Saving Private Ryan, Hachi: A Dog’s Tale, About Time, My Girl, Interstellar, Up, Marley & Me, Philadelphia, Edward Scissorhands, Toy Story 3, The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas, Grave Of The Fireflies, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, Mulan or Inside Out.

But the Patton ending (“All glory is fleeting”) does it to me every time. Ditto the last five minutes of The Last Temptation of Christ and the last two minutes of Brokeback Mountain….what else?