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I kept my word last night by revisiting Matt Tyrnauer‘s Studio 54 at an opening-night gala for 2018 Outfest. It’s a fascinating, well-told tale — sometimes hilarious, sometimes sad — that invites you to really sink in to that mad Manhattan era (’77 to ’80) that was a real bacchanalian sweet spot — post-pill, pre-AIDS, sexual liberation and an abundance of quaaludes and cocaine.

As I was driving home it hit me why I’m so affected by Studio 54, above and beyond the nostalgia vibes. It’s because Tyrnauer’s strategy for the first hour or so is to give you a great contact high with the saga of Studio 54’s amazing success — the cinematic equivalent of dropping a Lemmon 714 on an empty stomach — and then abruptly shift into wistful melancholy as he relates how partners Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager struck it rich only to see the whole thing collapse less than two years later.

Schrager recovered and went on to great success as a boutique hotelier; Rubell died of AIDS in 1989 at age 45.

On 4.26.77 Rubell and Schrager opened the legendary late-hours club — an immersive alternate-reality trip on West 54th near 8th Avenue. Studio 54 quickly became known for enforcing a brutal door-admission policy while at the same time passing through top-tier celebrities and allowing all kinds of hedonistic, wild-ass behavior once you got in (especially in that big dark balcony). They hit the cultural jackpot, revelling in bass-thromp music, mountains of cash and all kinds of druggy good times for a year and and two-thirds until New York State prosecutors and the IRS raided their offices in December ’78, and then filed tax-evasion and skimming charges the following summer.

The last third of Tyrnauer’s 98-minute film brings it all home. The mood of the film suddenly quiets down and shifts into “yeah, the success went to our heads and then we went to prison and then a few years later poor Steve died.” Almost anything having to do with loss tends to get me emotionally. Studio 54 is about striking it rich but lacking the wisdom or being too arrogant or wrecked to avoid dumb mistakes, and how recklessness and the overplaying of one’s hand leads where you might expect. The finale includes an admission from the now-72 year-old Schrager (who’d never consented to being interviewed about the Studio 54 saga until Tyrnaeur came along) that he and Rubell acted foolishly and that life is short but the pages turn regardless.

Why did Studio 54 get to me? Because I made a mistake or two when I was young and somewhat brash, and it took some time to correct or counter-balance them. Life is choices, whether rashly decided upon or not.

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Hollywood Elsewhere will be picking up an Outfest press pass in a couple of hours, and then early this evening I’ll be attending the opening-night gala screening of Matt Tyrnauer‘s Studio 54, which I fell for during last January’s Sundance Film Festival. Two motives: I want to see how it plays with an enthusiastic gay crowd and whether or not a second viewing will still give me the tingles. Zeitgeist Films and Kino Lorber have picked up U.S. rights and will presumably open it sometime in the fall. Outfest runs from tonight through Sunday, July 22nd.

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“Many of the viewpoints Maher ridicules seem outrageous only because mainstream society is not yet accustomed to hearing them and having to ponder their validity. In this regard and many others, Maher’s material is reactionary in the dictionary sense of the word: opposing political or social liberalization or reform, or at least dramatically signaling his annoyance with the idea that there might be another way to live and think beyond whatever he’s comfortable with.

“That’s unfortunate, considering that a big part of his routine is based on self-identifying as a liberal. It’s as if he just wants things to go back to the way they were in the ’90s, when he could plausibly sit on the left-hand side of the set on his old ABC talk show Politically Incorrect. The Overton window shifted while he was ensconced at Real Time on HBO, and he’s mad that he can’t move it back.” — from Matt Zoller Seitz’s 7.12 Vulture piece, “Bill Maher Is Stand-up Comedy’s Past — Hannah Gadsby Represents Its Future.”

The thing that bothered me about Alden Ehrenreich playing Han Solo in Solo (i.e., zero resemblance between himself and Harrison Ford) is the same thing bothering me about 81-year-old Billy Dee Williams returning to plan Lando Calrissian in J.J. Abrams‘ Star Wars Episode IX flick — i.e., zero resemblance to Solo‘s Donald Glover.

I realize that prequels like Solo can’t hope to fully blend with the sequel trio — they’re parallel universes with their own biological compositions– but all these films have been produced by Disney and Kathy Kennedy, and after watching Solo I feel as if I’ve made an investment in Glover-as-Calrissian. But when Episode IX comes out I’ll be back with the old Lando again. And I don’t like it. Glover is 21st Century cool but Williams is the original cool so who’s da man?

From Ben Childs’ 7.11 Guardian piece: “The fear is that Disney-owned Lucasfilm is only wheeling out the 81-year-old [Williams] because it desperately needs original-trilogy cachet, and has exhausted the potential to cast Ford, Hamill or Fisher in yet another episode.

“Cynics will also complain that Williams ought to have been front and center in Abrams’ earlier effort, The Force Awakens, when he might have been paired successfully with his old buddy Han. But Lucasfilm has made a habit of keeping its classic cast apart in the new era, as if too much of a good thing might overwhelm us. Perhaps the idea is to retain the focus on fresher faces such as Daisy Ridley’s Rey and John Boyega’s Finn, so it is probably fair to say that the ploy has proved successful.
more or less.”

By the way: I’m not entirely sure if Luke Skywalker really and truly died at the end of The Last Jedi. He did, I know, but did he? I so hated the fact that Luke never left Ahch-To throughout the whole film, and that he died on Ach-To after the final confrontation with Kylo Ren even though he wasn’t actually fighting anyone — his “force projection” was. God, I hated that ending.

Spittin’ cousins, queens at cross purposes. The willful, emotional, ultimately unlucky Mary Queen of Scots (Saoirse Ronan) vs. the coolly reasoned Queen Elizabeth (Margot Robbie) in the mid to late 1500s. Things don’t quite work out for Mary, but then you knew that. The Focus Features release opens on 12.4.

Yesterday I passed along praise for Ronan’s performance (“incredible, really gets to shine, a full range of emotions”). The flame-haired Robbie looks like a fright. (Cue junket-whore questions about how upsetting it was for the beautiful Robbie to ugly up for the sake of art.) The clips are handsome in a carefully-balanced, steady-as-she-goes, class-A fashion. The exquisite lighting is the work of dp John Mathiesen, a longtime Ridley Scott collaborator.

Directed by Josie Rourke, the trailer seeks to persuade that the film is primarily focused on character and conviction rather than blood and spectacle. The fact that Beau Willimon (House of Cards) wrote the screenplay suggests this. And yet the word around the campfire is that the Game of Thrones aesthetic was also an influence.

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“Less stuffy literary biopic than ever-relevant female-empowerment saga, Wash Westmoreland‘s Colette ranks as one of the great roles for which Keira Knightley will be remembered. While hardly the first English-language feature to go behind the famous French byline (Danny Huston directed the much-derided Becoming Colette a quarter-century earlier), it succeeds in tying her story to the zeitgeist, while delving deeper into the love affairs she pursued with other women.” — from Peter Debruge‘s Sundance review, posted on 1.21.18.

Apple techies to Hollywood Elsewhere (received this morning at 6:30): “Thank you for your patience. We reviewed the documents you provided and [have] turned off the Activation Lock on your device.” The six-digit, two-step security code that’s been making life hell for the last six days, they mean. Ye gods and little fishes! There are two or three procedures that have to be carefully followed and implemented, but once this is done the phone will be in the pink and fully operational.

Thanks to everyone I reached out to for help, and to all the HE regulars who offered advice, thoughts and general sympathies. The last six days really have been horrid. While a couple of Apple reps were extremely helpful and in fact acted as God’s angels, a few others weren’t helpful at all. I was told last weekend by two senior Apple support reps as well as a Genius bar guy that there was no way to help me and that I was more or less screwed blue.

I’ve decided to sell the Yamaha as I’ve spotted something a little better as well as reasonably priced. Had it four years, bought it for $3750 plus paid for new windshield, mounted top case, Kryptonite lock. One estimate says it’s worth $3100 retail. Nada guides says it’s worth $2000, but if you add the top case, windshield and chain lock (at least $400) the price is $2400 firm. I’ve been maintaining it like a baby all along. Never took it on a long trip. Sticker on license plate is good until next February.