And what happened to the sideburns?
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It was reported this morning by Iranian cinema journalist Mansour Jahani that Mohammad Rasoulof, director of the forthcoming Cannes competition selection The Seed of the Sacred Fig, has been sentenced by the 29th branch of the Islamic Revolution Court of Iran to eight years in the slam.
Rasoulof (Manuscripts Don’t Burn, A Man of Integrity, There Is No Evil) will also be whipped, fined and have his property confiscated.
Babak Paknia, Rasoulof’s attorney, originally reported this on X. This ruling was recently confirmed in the 36th branch of the Court of Appeals. The case has been sent to enforcement.
Sacred Fig summary: “Iman, an investigating judge in the Revolutionary Court in Tehran, grapples with mistrust and paranoia as nationwide political protests intensify and his gun mysteriously disappears.”
HE to Rasoulof: Blow this pop stand, move to Paris, live in glorious exile. Don’t give those fuckers eight years of your life.
I’ve been saying this for years, but Zoomers are such a drag. Many of us revel in our loathing for them. The world has become a grimmer, more intimidating, far less beautiful and enjoyable place since Generation Z came of age. Not all of them, just the ayeholes.
I’m not saying all Zoomers are “bad” people, but a huge percentage seem like joyless mutants…a generation of fanatical Strelnikovs and DEI obsessives…identity politics, non-binary, ghastly clothing, trans obsesssions, they/them, cisgender, out of shape or obese, puberty blockers, gender dysphoria, hating on J. K. Rowling, identity music, sexual abstinence….if we were living in ancient Roman times and I was a king-shit emperor, I would feed these jokers to the lions in the Colisseum.
Just watch this Echo Chamberlain essay — “Gen Z: The Worst Generation.” It’s totally spot-on.
And you can’t trust the fanboys, of course. And that includes the sometimes too friendly or obliging Jeff Sneider. And I wouldn’t trust David Ehrlich either. None of them are really and truly straight-from-the-shoulder, let-the-chips-fall types.
You can, however, trust sourpusses like myself. If HE really and truly tumbles for George Miller’s latest wasteland saga, fine. But wait until Cannes for that to happen or not.
“Oh, Diogenes…find a man who’s honest.”Congrats to New Yorker critic Justin Chang for having won a Pulitzer Prize for film criticism. But if you ask me his 10.26.23 pan of Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers was cheap and petty — a woke gangster hit job. Justin is a bright fellow and an excellent writer, but this swan-song review was a disqualifier, plain and simple.
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