Posted four years ago: Speaking as a life-long cat lover, I can say with authority that some cats are on the locoweed side. Inexplicable behavior. One out of several hundred, I mean.

If none-too-bright cats are unhappy or freaked about some kind of confining situation, for example, they’ll sometimes do anything they can to escape, even at their own peril. Or they’ll take revenge upon the person they think is responsible.

(1) A woman I knew was driving with an anguished male cat on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. The weather was cold, a mild snowstorm was blowing, and her car was surrounded by a fair amount of traffic. She was going the usual highway speed. For some reason she leaned over and rolled down the driver-side window, and the cat immediately leapt out.

(2) My ex-wife Maggie and I had a calico cat who was accustomed to outdoor access, and who became extremely upset when we moved into an 8th floor high-rise apartment. The first night we moved in the cat climbed onto a waist-high balcony wall that overlooked the eight-story drop. I put him inside the apartment as this obviously seemed risky. Later that night he got out and jumped. We’d loved him, petted him, fed him, etc. Go figure.

(3) In the late ‘90s I was driving down Franklin Avenue with a cat who couldn’t handle being in moving cars. Jett and Dylan were with me. The cat was howling and freaking, and at one point jumped onto my shoulder and took a serious milkshake dump all over my neck and onto my blue workshirt. I remember the smell filling the car and the kids screaming with laughter.

(4) My sister and I knew that our excitable cat hated water, so we decided to take him with us on a short rowboat trip to the middle of a pond. As a training exercise. We waited until we were 30 or 40 feet out and then let him go. He looked around, assessed the situation, jumped into the pond and swam ashore.

(5) A girlfriend and I were sharing an apartment on Boston’s Park Drive. Her male cat, Tom, was bunking with us. I love cats but Tom was extremely hostile to me — the only cat I’ve run into who was this negative. One night we came back from a restaurant and found that Tom had peed on my sleeping pillow on our conjugal bed. That was it. Over the next day or two we found someone who was willing to take him.

This Chanel Iconic Handbag spot is a tribute to Claude Lelouch‘s A Man and a Woman (’66). The dreamy mood, the black-and-white cinematography (although the original was shot in monochrome, sepia and color), Francis Lai‘s famous musical theme.

The stars of that 58-year-old romantic classic, Jean Louis Trintignant and Anouk Aimee, were in their early-to-mid 30s when it was shot in ’65. Today’s Chanel costars, Brad Pitt and Penelope Cruz, are significantly older (60 and 49 respectively) and so the directors, Inez and Vinoodh, have digitally de-aged them.

I get the idea, of course, but Pitt doesn’t look like a 30something — he looks like a late 50something whose face has been almost totally erased, certainly of character. I like the slightly weathered, crinkly-eyed guy he played in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood better.

The tall waitress (5’10”) is Dutch fashion model Rianne Van Rompaey.

I just read a 3.25.24 article titled “Stop Laughing at Old Movies — audiences behaving badly at the theater, concerts, and everywhere else.”

The author is Jessica Crispin, who runs a Substack blog called “The Culture We Deserve.”

It reminded me of a 2012 Toronto Film Festival screening of Joe Wright‘s Anna Karenina. I was sitting in the seventh or eighth row, and during the third act some uncouth animals began chuckling at an emotional scene that wasn’t in the least bit funny. I distinctly recall whipping around and glaring.

I generally hate groups of people who laugh loudly in any context outside of watching comedies. I can tolerate laughter but only in short bursts, and that means no shrieking. I can be walking down a Manhattan street and if a group of younger people start to shriek-laugh at something, I’ll immediately flinch and snarl to myself “those fucking assholes,” etc.

The second-to-last paragraph in Crispin’s piece mentions that during a presumably recent screening of Blow-Up, people in the audience were cackling “at the mimed game of tennis, a group of people playing with an imaginary ball. It doesn’t get past me that [this is a] representation of atomization and isolation, the absolute inability to connect. The whoop of laughter is a signal to say ‘not me.’ And it’s pathetic because it suggests exactly the opposite.”

If I’d been at that Blow-Up screening I would’ve…okay, I wouldn’t have gotten up and thrown the remainder of my soft drink into the laps or faces of the chucklers — way too aggressive — but I definitely would’ve followed the chucklers into the lobby after it ended and politely asked, “Sorry to bother but if you don’t mind answering, what did you guys find funny about the silent tennis ball scene? I’m just curious because I’ve never heard a group of people laughing at it and I’ve seen Blow-Up several times. I mean, are you guys a new breed of some kind?”

I pretty much worshipped Louis Gossett, Jr. all my life, and I really wish I could have somehow seen him play “George Murchison” in the 1959 Broadway production of “A Raisin in the Sun,” when he was 23.

Gossett was arguably one of the handsomest actors to ever punch through to the big time, and definitely the best-looking and glowing-est actor of color within the frame of the 20th Century. And man, I sat up and took notice when I saw him in The Landlord, Skin Game (costarring with James Garner), The Laughing Policeman, The White Dawn and Sadat, the 1983 four-hour miniseries. Not to mention “Fiddler”in Roots.

And I really felt badly for the poor guy when he put on that lizard-skin makeup and costarred with Dennis Quaid in Wolfgang Petersen‘s Enemy Mine. which many were making jokes about as they left the Los Angeles all-media screening in late ’85. I remember exiting through the crowded middle aisle and doing my imitation of Gossett’s reptilian, gurgly-ass speaking voice.

But let’s cut to the chase. Gossett’s career-defining role was Marine Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley in Taylor Hackford‘s An Officer and a Gentleman (’82), which landed him a well-deserved Best Supporting Actor Oscar. Peter Fonda‘s most famous line was “we blew it.” Clark Gable‘s was “frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Gossett’s was “I want your D.O.R….D.O.R.!” Foley is, was and always will be the greatest-of-all-time movie drill sergeant, and yes, that means he was better than Lee Ermey. Gossett was 45 or thereabouts when he gave that performance.

Gossett passed earlier today in Santa Monica at age 87.

Francis Coppola‘s Megalopolis screened late Thursday morning (3.28) at the Universal Citywalk IMAX theatre, and a certain friendo says the response was quite positive, exciting and emotional…”roaring off the screen, roaring into your eyes and ears“…full powered engagement and then some…intense, experimental, dynamic, a happy ending and “nothing at all like The Godfather, Part II….nothing like it or like any other film.”

It played before a crowd of roughly 300 industry elites (distributors, studio execs, Al Pacino, Andy Garcia, Roger Corman…a who’s who of heavy hitters)….”it was like Francis had 300 friends over [to this home]…he was extremely emotional when the lights came up, I can tell you…it was very moving to see him.”

Hollywood Elsewhere can’t make a smooth article out of these scrambled notes, but to understand what Megalopolis is or what it feels like you have to imagine a combination of a film by Francis Coppola and another by Ed Emshwiller, and then mesh them together.

Adam Driver‘s Ceasar, a driven visionary architect…Driver is playing a variation of the same character he played in House of Gucci and Ferrari…another tortured visionary.

Boilerplate: “Julia Cicero (Nathalie Emmanuel) is divided between loyalties to her father, Frank (Forest Whitaker), who has a classical view of society, and her architect lover, Caesar, who is more progressive and engaged with his idea of the future. He wants to rebuild New York City as a utopia following a devastating disaster.”

Costar Lawrence Fishburne provides narration.

Friendo (and please forgive occasional repetitions): “It’s very engaging…doesn’t drag at all….constantly entertaining, visually arresting…you have to constantly work to keep up with it. You’ve got to follow it. You can’t help but want to follow it.”

The most extraordinary part of the viewing, says friendo, was when an act of live theatre blended with the film. Friendo: “The lights came on in the cinema, and an actor stood up and he started asking a question of Adam Driver’s Ceasar on the screen, and then Driver answered him as if he could hear the question. Theatre interacting with cinema.”

“There were so many luminaries,” friendo continues. “All the studio chiefs…so many faces……Al Pacino was there.

“It’s a startling film….a very enveloping film, but also highly visual in a ’60s experimental way. It felt like Francis’s youth was returning to him and pouring through his heart at age 84….the kind of independent cinema that he grew up on….it’s a wonderful, larger-than-life, jumps-off-the-screen movie and in a totally personal way….constantly entertaining….it’s not like any movie that’s out there, I can tell you that…avant garde experimental.

“It’s principally about a love affair between Driver and Natalie Emmanuel, the daughter of his rival and opponent (Whitaker)….a battle for her heart. Romeo and Juliet….a Shaekespearean battle between two families…a bit like Baz Lurhman’s Romeo + Juliet.

“The statement that I felt summed up the general response was from Andy Garcia: ‘This guy is the reason we’re all making movies.’

“The film is a huge inspiration. I couldn’t tell you what Joe Popcorn might say, but this was a wildly enthusiastic crowd. I thoroughly enjoyed it…a kind of IMAX underground movie from the late ‘60s.

“Special care will be needed to sell it…it follows all of the standard dramatic rules that other films follow, but in an idiosyncratic way…there’s a sense of justice at the end….but this is nothing like The Godfather, Part II. Nothing whatsoever.

“We’re shown an overlaying of images like the beginning of Apocalypse Now, but in a more experimental way….roaring off the screen, roaring into your eyes and ears…more like One from the Heart. Taking place in an unreal world…a big metropolis….in the future but it doesn’t say exactly when….begins after a catastrophe….a city pulling itself together.

“Adam as Caesar, Natalie as his lover….one of the bad guys, the city’s mayor, is played by Giancarlo Esposito.

“Adam Driver is really playing Francis…very much of a visionary….Aubrey Plaza plays a rival love interest….bitchy, grasping.

“It just needs the right handling..Focus or Neon or Searchight…it needs expert handling….an adventuresome film….obviously it’s going to walk a tightrope. It’s probably better to go to Venice and Telluride as Cannes can be a make-or-break…some journalists tend to go there with an attitude.”

Yes, I’ll be watching Dan Reed‘s The Truth vs. Alex Jones sometime this evening. We all know the reprehensible facts and how Alex Jones ignored them and then fabricated his own bullshit scenario.

Nancy Lanza, a working-class NRA mom, indoctrinated her mentally wacko son, Adam, into gun culture, and bought the guns that led to the slaughter of those 20 Sandy Hook kids and those six school staffers on 12.14.12.

Let’s hear it for good old Nancy, whom Adam killed that morning before driving over to the school.

The film has only been streaming a couple of days. Has anyone seen it?

“Even though the legal battle between Sandy Hook families and the conspiracy theorist Alex Jones has been thoroughly covered, it is still hard to watch him in the documentary The Truth vs. Alex Jones without experiencing a wave of nausea.

“If there is value in seeing these events recapped, it is in the power of seeing the parents confront Jones in court. Over two trials, in Texas and Connecticut, the [paremnts] won more than $1 billion in damages.

“It is also in the horror of seeing just how confidently Jones deflects questions and tries to steer proceedings to his advantage — denying the families what Alissa Parker, Emilie’s mother, calls ‘a moment of reflection’ from him.

“The Truth vs. Alex Jones offers a lesson in just how vicious and pervasive conspiracy theories can become and a chilling portrait of how little they may trouble their purveyors.” — from Ben Kenigsberg‘s 3.26.24 N.Y. Times review.

Hugs and condolences to Katey Rich, who joined VF in 2013. Alas, old media is under intensive care. End of an era.