Once or twice a year a slack-off urge will take hold. I want to get it up but can’t quite. 24 hours of “off” energy. Today was such a day. It was complicated to some extent by having flown to New York Wednesday night (red-eye), and also due to various snarls, tangles and irritations, one of them being a $349 fraudulent charge to my business checking account. You don’t want to know. But I can feel myself starting to adjust to East Coast time. A voice is telling me Saturday will be better.
Roughly two months ago a very early draft of Eric Roth‘s screenplay for Killers of the Flower Moon (dated 2.20.17,...
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Frances McDormand‘s Fern was strong but mule-stubborn and at the end of the day self-destructive, and this stunted psychology led...
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Can’t decide which performance is better, although I’ve always leaned toward Tina Vitale, her cynical New Jersey moll behind the...
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Two days ago (1.19) a Facebook tribute congratulated Tippi Hedren for having reached her 94th year (blow out the candles!)...
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A friend suggested a list of the Ten Best American Crime Flicks of the ‘70s. By which he meant films...
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I’ve never been able to give myself over to Sam Peckinpah’s Major Dundee, a 1965 Civil War–era western, and I’ve...
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