In 2040 or 2041, Richard Linklater‘s film version of Stephen Sondheim and George Furth‘s Merrily We Roll Along, a musical, will stream worldwide. Costarring Ben Platt (25 now, 45 in ’40), Everybody Wants Some!’s Blake Jenner (who will be 47 or thereabouts when the film debuts) and Booksmart’s Beanie Feldstein (who will also be 45 upon release).

Linklater, significantly, will be 80 or 81 when it’s all over.

Merrily We Roll Along is a nearly 40 year-old stage musical. It’s based on the 1934 play of the same name by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart.

Anne Thompson to Eric Kohn in a Mountainside Inn echo chamber: “A lot of Netflix and Amazon here.” Renee Zellweger and Adam Driver are being tributed here, which means they’ll both be Oscar-nominated.

“I’ve heard Zellweger’s performance is great,” Thompson says, implying that the film itself may be…who knows? Likewise, “I hear good things about Adam Sandler‘s performance in Uncut Gems.”

Randy Newman, composer of Marriage Story score, is here! First-out-of-the-gate Ford vs. Ferrari happens Friday afternoon. Thompson: ScarJo “is a movie star…a major movie star” who went for the Marvel franchise dough and sort of got off the quality-movie track, but now she’s back.

Every year I run this photo…same angle, same banner, same crowds, same skyscape. A perennial.

An involvement in a messy, months-long extra-marital affair probably isn’t going to enhance the political prospects of Representative Ilhan Omar, the 37 year-old Somali-American who reps Minnesota’s fifth Congressional district, and who is no stranger to political storms. She’s the one who referred to 9/11 perpetrators in curiously vague terms (“some people did something”) and who’s also been unfairly characterized by President Trump as anti-Israel.

Especially with Tim Mynett, the 38 year-old married political consultant (E Street Group) Omar is allegedly involved with, having reportedly been paid “roughly $222,000 from 2018 to 2019 for fundraising consulting, travel consulting, and internet advertising.”

I understand and to some extent sympathize with people who’ve been carried away by love’s torrential currents. The fact is that good people sometimes fall out of love and move on to other partners, and especially to guys when their partners are older and (I’m sorry) less fetching than the newbie. I think people should be left alone by reporters when sad stuff like this happens, but that’s not how things work. This thing popped three days ago, and it’s not going away.

E Street Group’s Tim Mynett, Rep. Ilan Omar.

Beth Mynett

The applicable rule from Omar’s perspective is “never, ever fuck the help”, especially if you’re in the public political eye and married to someone else, and especially if the “help” is married to a significantly older woman. Tim Mynett has “been” with 55 year-old Beth Mynett, medical director of the D.C. Department of Corrections, since ’06 and married to her since ’12. They have a 13 year-old son.

Stories by NBC News, the Washington Examiner, the N.Y. Post and UK’s Daily Mail stem from Beth Mynett having filed divorce papers earlier this week.

She said in the divorce filing that she was “devastated by the betrayal and deceit that preceded [Tim’s] abrupt declaration” of love for Omar last April, but she told her husband that she “loved him and was willing to fight for the marriage.” However, she said he told her that “was not an option for him,” according to court documents.

It’s a mess, a mess, a hot mess.

In honor of Tuesday Weld‘s 76th birthday on 8.27, screenwriter-critic-essayist Kim Morgan re-posted a 2017 New Beverly essay about Frank Perry‘s Play It As It Lays (’72). Except she mainly focused on the film, or rather it’s failure to catch in the way it should have.

Morgan apparently feels the same about Play It As It Lays as I do. It’s a brilliant translation of Joan Didion‘s source novel, and my nominee for the most…I don’t know, curiously arresting film ever made about cold, rotten, corroded Hollywood. Weld’s performance as sad, spaced-out Maria (pronounced Mar-EYE-ah) Wyeth is easily her best ever.

Morgan: “Play It As It Lays floats and swerves and cuts with observations and weirdly timed statements like this throughout, brilliantly matching the fragmented time fame and switching POV of Didion’s novel, while wandering from place to place and person to person with Maria’s depressed but succinct sensitivities.

“It’s often genius-level, and so the fact that Play It As It Lays was poorly to adequately received at the time (though Roger Ebert loved it) seems unduly unjust to me. Many critics thought it very pretty, and Weld and Perkins fantastic (they are), but very empty (it’s not, and it is, precisely the point). Or that Perry was all wrong for Didion (he’s not).

“Didion’s novel has sometimes single-paragraph sentences, terse observations met with deadpan responses, and Perry visualizes her manner stunningly. And he does so as a Perry film, not just a Didion film — this is what happens when another is helming your own work, even if you write the screenplay — you cannot control your narrative once it’s in the eyes of the other beholder.”

Noah Baumbach‘s Marriage Story doesn’t screen until Saturday evening, so following the brunch Friday’s HE slate will include (a) James Mangold‘s Ford vs. Ferrari in the mid-afternoon, followed by (b) Renee Zellweger and Rupert Goold‘s Judy at 6:30 pm, and finally (c) a 9 pm showing of Edward Norton‘s Motherless Brooklyn.

Friday evening is an either-or between Norton and the Safdie brothers’ Uncut Gems, but I’ll catch the latter on Saturday at 12:30 pm.

A wise and cultured cineaste friend (woman) and I were waiting in line before an Alamo Rental Car kiosk. Durango La Plata Airport. 11:20 am.

Cineaste Pally: How ya been?
HE: Just reading the Venice Film Festival raves for Marriage Story.
Cultured Cineaste Pally: I don’t know anything.
HE: Don’t wanna read the reviews?
Cultured Cineaste Pally: I don’t want to read what other people think.
HE: You can’t get away from it.
Cultured Cineaste Pally: Nope.
HE: You have to let it in.
Cultured Cineaste Pally: Naahh.
HE: Venice is the first wave. Okay, that’s what Owen Gleiberman and other critics are saying…fine. But Telluride is right after that. That’s who and what we are — second wavers. Immediately after Venice. And if Venice is wrong, if they over-gush, we straighten their asses out.
Cultured Cineaste Pally: Not doing that.
HE: Okay.

Something hit me when I looked at Venice Film Festival photos of Ad Astra costars Brad Pitt and Liv Tyler. A familiar perception, tinged with unfairness and a shake of the head so please understand that I mean no harm or disrespect by sharing this.

The fact of the matter is that Brad, whose Cliff Booth performance is a slam-dunk nominee for Best Supporting Actor, has never looked cooler or salt-and-pepper seasoned or more in the Zen groove while Liv…well, biology can be really unfair. Some actresses age like cork-bottled Cabernet Sauvignon and others have a slightly more difficult time of it. Some women (like my wife Tatyana) look dishier in their 40s than they did in their 20s, but that’s more the exception than the rule.

If guys don’t smoke or put on weight, a lot of them tend to look pretty good in their late 40s and 50s and even their 60s. I’m sorry but they do. If they watch their weight…a big “if”.

Straight from the shoulder, I have to be honest — I don’t like this. What the trailer is putting out, I mean. It feels like a fucking family movie. Dad, mom and the kids munching popcorn. The idea seems to have been to create product that would make money. I know it’s based on the real-life balloon exploits of James Glaisher (played by Eddie Redmayne), but Felicity Jones‘s Amelia Wren character was invented to satisfy “woke”-ness. A seat-of-the-pants feeling tells me this isn’t trustworthy. I don’t believe any of it. The movie (which will show at Telluride) might be a different deal but I doubt it.

3:50 am update: It feels better to be disciplined and awake than to be asleep. 8.28, 10:40 pm: I have to arise at 3:30 am so I can take an Uber to LAX at 4:15 am, arrive there by 5 am. My American flight to Phoenix leaves at 6:05 am. The Phoenix-to-Durango flight leaves at 8:53 am. Then a cappuccino, a rental car transaction and into the mountains. Arriving in Telluride sometime around 1 pm. Unless I pull over somewhere and take a nap.

“I loved Alexandre O. Philippe‘s Memory — The Origins of Alien (Exhibit A, 10.4), which I saw last night at 10 pm. It digs down, re-explores and triple-dip examines each and every aspect of Ridley Scott’s 1979 classic…an absolute delight. It has everything, delivers everything…you leave completely sated, satisfied and well fed. Guillermo del Toro is going to worship Memory, and tweet his ass off about it.” — posted from Park City on 1.25.19.

There are two kinds of movie devotees, and they can be neatly divided by their reactions to the news that Martin Scorsese‘s The Irishman runs three hours and 29 minutes. The first group of supposed movie lovers is aghast at this news (“My God, my aching ass! And the bathroom breaks!”), but at the same time they’re totally down for an eight-hour couch marathon watching David Fincher‘s Mindhunter 2. The second group is utterly delighted by the news that a genius-level filmmaker, a half-century veteran whose vision and knockout chops have been hailed time and again, has made a nice, long, super banquet-sized film…”I can’t wait!”

Second group to first group: No good movie is too long, ond no bad movie is too short. Period. End of story. Shut up.