Jeff Wells 
In a forthcoming issue of Total Film Oppenheimer‘s Christopher Nolan is claiming that he and his crackerjack physical effects team “recreated the first nuclear weapon detonation without using CGI.” I’m not 100% certain but I think Stanley Kubrick went the same way for Dr. Strangelove‘s grand musical finale.
Ari Aster‘s Disappointment Blvd. — a very cool, take-it-or-leave-it smarthouse title, one that sticks to your ribs — is no longer being called Disappointment Blvd. The new title, according to A24, is Beau Is Afraid — presumably an allusion to the first name of Joaquin Phoenix‘s main protagonist, “one of the most successful entrepreneurs of all time.”
Beau Is Afraid is obviously a wimpy-sounding title. It was presumably chosen to appeal to Millennial and Zoomer “safeties”, or basically your under-40 lily-livered types who live in various states of perpetual anxiety and have frequently shared concerns online about not feeling safe enough. We’re talking about gentle reed candy-asses with peep-peep pussy voices and squeaky shoes…intimidated types who wear baggy jeans and normcore clothing…this is your target audience for Beau Is Afraid.
In a simultaneous decision, A24 has announced that The Whale it also being retitled. Darren Aronofsky‘s film will now be called Brendan Fraser Isn’t Attending the Golden Globes Because He’s Afraid That Phillip Berk Will Once Again Insert A Finger Into Brendan’s Anus.
Let’s re-title various classic films according to the A24 “safety” aesthetic. Point Blank is now called Walker Is Afraid. Sam Peckinpah‘s The Wild Bunch is now called The Fraidy Cats. John Ford‘s The Searchers will henceforth be called Ethan Is Afraid of the Comanches. The title of Steven Spielberg‘s The Fabelmans is now Sammy Is Afraid of Failing As A Filmmaker (And Has Therefore Decided To Live In His Mother’s Basement). We can play this game all day.
I’m afraid, you’re afraid, we’re all afraid. Jordan Ruimy is afraid. Roger Durling is afraid. Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander are afraid that they’ll never write another Ed Wood or The People vs. O.J. Simpson. Sasha Stone is afraid. Each and every day David Poland awakes with fear in his soul. Life is full of terror, anxiety and intimidation.
James Cameron‘s Titanic opened on 12.19.97 — almost exactly 25 years ago. I had seen it on the Paramount lot in mid November and knew it was a meltdown and a humdinger, but it took a while for the word to get out. The social media factor was zip back then — online reporting was just starting to happen (my first online column appeared in October ’98) with most of the world still following print.
It’s not commonly recalled that while it opened very strongly, the super-thunderous business didn’t happen immediately. Theatres didn’t begin to sell out until the end of that weekend. The first weekend earned $28,638,131 in 2,674 theaters, but the following weekend it made $35.6 million, for Chrissake. After 40 days in theatres Titanic hit $300 million. It finally wound up with $659.4 million domestic and 2.195 billion worldwide.
I haven’t re-watched Titanic since the 3D re-release, which I wasn’t floored by. The 3D effect was….well, modest.
Most people paid no mind to the 1.33 “boxy” Titanic that was released on Pioneer laserdisc on 10.13.98. It retailed for $49.98. Cameron’s film had been shot on open-matte super 35mm, allowing it to be cropped to widescreen proportions (2.39:1) for theatrical. I owned a laserdisc player back then, but I never saw the boxy. Just for fun I’d like to watch a 1080p version of this.
Chappelle’s fans are not “transphobic.” They’re just highly suspicious of the kool-aid as a rule.
Elon Musk was booed heavily when he was invited on stage by Dave Chappelle last night. He fucked around and is quickly finding out. Sycophantic Twitter users are a small minority. Even Chappelle's transphobic fans don't like this jackass. pic.twitter.com/2DFlp8o3Kh
— Alejandra Caraballo (@Esqueer_) December 12, 2022
The snow flurry deluge earlier today was wonderful, but the weather wasn’t quite cold enough and so the snowflakes hit the windshield and melted, and the iPhone auto focus locked in on the water drops and the shot was more or less ruined.
The Los Angeles Film Critics Association (aka eccentric foodie Venusians who occasionally get it right and sometimes wildly wrong) split their Best Picture award this afternoon — Tar (fine) and Everything Everywhere All at Once (absolutely not). These people are from the Planet Neptune, and now that they’ve gone gender neutral, forget it. They’re not of this earth. Nobody cares about what they think or who they like. Okay, the talent does.
LAFCA’s Best Director trophy went to Tar‘s Todd Field….great. He also took the Best Screenplay award. The leading performance awards went to Tar‘s Cate Blanchett (emphatic agreement) and Living‘s Bill Nighy (a good performance). One of the Supporting Performance awards should have goe to The Banshees of Inisherin’s Kerry Condon, but it didn’t. The winners in this category were Dolly De Leon of Triangle of Sadness (disagree) and Ke Huy Quan of Everything Everywhere All at Once (ditto).
Due respect but if you’re curious about the rest of the awards, here’s a link. Nobody really cares. LAFCA is its own realm, its own little dingle-dangle. I say screw ’em…they’ve gender-neutraled their way into oblivion.
Carol Theresa East (aka “Sister Carol” is still with us. A Jamaican-born American reggae recording artist and actress, she’s also gone by Black Cinderella and Mother Culture. Born on 1.15.59, Carol was 26 when she appeared in Jonathan Demme‘s Something Wild (’86).
Last night I re-watched about half of Joshua Logan and William Inge‘s Picnic (’55). Right up to the moment of Bill Holden and Kim Novak‘s sexy lakeside dance.
When she walks down the steps at the beginning, Novak’s moves are saying “okay, I’ve decided…I’d rather have sex with you than with Cliff Robertson, and while I know we’re not going to do it here and now in front of Susan Strasberg, Verna Felton, Rosalind Russell and poor Arthur O’Connell, a man who never had sex once in his off-stage life and whose character will never have sex with the spinsterish Russell…let’s express our mutual longing in a way that is 110% unmistakable.”
Holden was reportedly so nervous about his dance moves, which he was taught by choreographer Miriam Nelson, that he had to get drunk to perform them.
Where would Brittney Griner be right now if the press hadn’t steadily focused on her situation from the moment of her arrest and imprisonment last February? Which in turn made the Biden administration pay more attention and make her a prisoner swap priority, etc. If the press had ignored or under-reported her situation all along there’s a decent chance she’d still in the clink, right?
If I were in Griner’s size 17 shoes I’d be saying the following to myself: “Damn, all I want to do is hug and kiss my wife and live my normal life again. I just want to relax and be the person I was before the hash-oil arrest. I want to work out and dribble a basketball and eat my favorite foods…shit like that. But I’m a big international story right now, and for all I know I might still be in jail if the press hadn’t made me into an international focus of attention. And so I need to thank the press and give them interviews and sit for a press conference and so on. I have to play the game because it’s my duty, in a way. History is calling and I need to pick up the phone. I’m like an astronaut who’s just come back from the moon. I need to face the cameras and the questions — it’s the decent thing to do.”
Since arriving in San Antonio two mornings ago Griner has been out of sight, maintaining her privacy, sleeping, etc. If it was me I’d have done the press conference Friday afternoon or at the very latest Saturday morning. She’d do well to “open up” on Monday morning…just sayin’.
Roxanne Gay, a novelist, an essayist and a woman of undeniable size, is no fan of Darren Aronofsky‘s The Whale (A24, limited). She’s written a harshly critical essay for the N.Y. Times called “The Cruel Spectacle of The Whale.”
I wish I could throw my two cents in, but I haven’t seen The Whale. Would it be okay if I lie by saying I’m looking forward to the experience?
Gay: “Most audiences will see the spectacle of a 600-pound man unwilling to care for himself, grieving the loss of his partner who died by suicide, eager to die himself, and using food as the means to that end. The disdain the filmmakers seem to have for their protagonist is constant, inescapable. It’s infuriating — to have all this on-screen talent and all these award-winning creators behind the camera, working to make an inhumane film about a very human being. What, exactly, is the point of that?”
I’m naturally presuming that Aronofsky disagrees with Gay’s assessment, and that he’ll probably take issue with it in some way.
Seven or eight years ago Toon Camera came along, and I paid it no mind. It may have been been refined and upgraded in the years since or not, but I know right now that Toon Camera delivers a reasonably passable version of the rotoscoping process. Obviously below the tech level of Richard Linklater‘s Waking Life, A Scanner Darkly and Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood but the conversion tech isn’t too bad. I’m also a fan of 8mmVintage Camera app.
