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I’ve no room in my soul for stupid boner comedies, but there’s something about the tone of Amateur Night…I don’t know what it is but at the very least the trailer suggests that it might be half-genuine and therefore might half-work. Maybe because co-directors and co-writers Lisa Addario and Joe Syracuse based the premise (out-of-work husband driving hookers around to pay for pregnant wife’s medical insurance) on their own experience when they first hit Hollywood. I also love the original title — Drive, She Said. The presence of Jason Biggs suggests a low-rent horndog attitude but maybe not. I’m a teeny bit concerned that this August 2016 release wrapped in late 2014 (20 months is too long of a lull, suggesting there may be content issues) but let’s put that aside for now. Costarring Ashley Tisdale, Janet Montgomery, Bria L. Murphy, Jenny Mollen.

Erectile dysfunction is commonly defined as an inability to get it up. A more accurate definition: a difficulty with keeping it up, better known as the Moody Johnson syndrome. It’s up, it’s down, it’s up, it’s taking a break, it’s distracted, it’s up again, etc. When special moments of intimacy with a loved one occur, most guys want their appendages to commit whole-hog to becoming small (8″ to 9″) baseball bats made of hickory. As I understand it, that’s what the taking of Viagra and Cialis is mostly about, i.e., wanting to be “bat”-man.

Side issue: There are people out there who actually intend to buy the Deadpool Bluray. So, you know, they can watch it with their kids or with friends on a weekday evening or Sunday afternoon…whenever. Think about that. On second thought, don’t.

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The first thing that came to mind when I read the Neon Demon copy line — “Beauty isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” — was, of course, that famous locker-room quote from Green Bay Packers coach Vince Lombardi. Yes, kidding. “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing” is owned by UCLA Bruins football coach Henry Russell (“Red”) Sanders, who first said it back in 1950. Just for the record.

I’m not saying Bernie is any kind of saint or even the best transitional figure for serious change, but the highest currents of his campaign have always been and continue to be about the “we.” After Hillary is officially nominated the Bernie thing will continue. The Bernie cause is the new Tea Party except with accurate, Noam Chomsky-approved social analysis and intelligence and college degrees. Chomsky has said Bernie is no radical but merely a Rooseveltian New Dealer trying to re-hoist that flag. I’ll be voting for Hillary against Trump, but we all know who and what she is. She’s obviously not evil or rancid but she’s no angel. If her campaign had come up with this “we not me” poster and promoted it all over, people would scream “give us a break!” Bernie at least can create this poster and not get laughed out of the room.

I’m sorry but I think we all understand what USS Indianapolis: Men of Courage will be. It cost $40 million but it looks cut-rate. It’s an accepted maxim these days that the starring presence of Nicolas Cage in almost any film and certainly one with grandiose proportions or an extra-solemn tone (like that rapture movie in which he played an airline pilot) tends to signify trouble. (Unless it’s a Paul Schrader film.) I tend to regard Saban Films as a kind of Cannon-like operation. Mario Van Peebles directing a WWII flick? Always beware of titles with colons followed by secondary titles. Always be suspicious of movie titles that extoll courage, valor, exceptional heroism. Too many guys howling and screaming. The poster reminds me of those one-sheets for Battle of the Bulge or Tora Tora Tora! A voice is telling me that at the end of the day that first-hand recollection of the Indianapolis nightmare that Robert Shaw shared with Roy Scheider and Richard Dreyfuss in Jaws will still be the keeper.

From Wiki page: “Principal photography on the film began on June 19, 2015 in Mobile, Alabama.Filming was also to take place in San Francisco and Kyoto, Japan, but the producers later opted to double Mobile for both San Francisco and Japan.”

I heard a week or two ago that Warren Beatty’s Howard Hughes film, which has been untitled since it began shooting in early ’14 and is still officially untitled as we speak, has a title. Eureka! It was decided upon before Beatty visited Cinemacon for an Arnon Milchan tribute in mid-April. The title and a release date (i.e, presumably sometime between October and December) will be announced soon, I’m told. Beatty’s dramedy is a period love story that mostly occurs in 1958 but ends five or six years later, I’m told. The would-be lovers are a pair of Hughes employees (Lily Collins, Alden Ehrenreich) who come from conservative backgrounds and are therefore given to emotional caution and discipline, and at the same time are pressured into keeping their relationship hidden from Beatty’s Hughes character, depicted as a highly eccentric control freak who enforces a strict prohibition regarding intra-company fraternization. I’ve spoken to a guy who’s seen the film and can say at the very least that it sounds as if the story delivers a strong and poignant third act.

There’s a scene in Oliver Stone‘s W. when Laura Bush (Elizabeth Banks) tries to lift the spirits of husband George (Josh Brolin) by suggesting they should get tickets to Andrew Lloyd Webber‘s Cats, his favorite stage musical. In so doing Stone was deriding Dubya’s taste as well as Cats itself, which has long been dismissed as a rube show in the vein of Mamma Mia!. And now Tom Hooper, it says here, is planning to adapt Cats for the screen. I literally flinched when I read this. This is the kind of thing you’d expect Rob Marshall to direct, but Hooper? He’s obviously a competent helmer of films with unsubtle emotional currents, but this feels like a bridge too far. I’m saying this as one who at least respected Hooper’s handling of Les Miserables — another hugely popular, tourist-friendly musical. Not a wise career move, especially in the wake of the not-so-hot Danish Girl.

My Paris flight touched down this morning at 8:30 am. The Airbnb pad is at 27 rue Jacques Louvel-Tessier, which is just east of the Quai de Valmy (i.e., an extension of Canal St. Martin) and four or five blocks northeast of Place de la Republique. Except I can’t move in until 4 pm so I’ve been hanging at La Martine, a corner cafe at the corner of rue Dieu and Quai de Valmy. Three cappucinos so far. Blue skies, intoxicating warm air, slight breeze…pretty much a perfect day.

My English-speaking waitress (above) has a little bit of a Kristen Stewart thing going on..

What’s the first description of Han Solo that comes to mind? Aside from (a) “you’re a good fighter, Solo…I hate to lose you” and (b) fearless/reckless Millenium Falcon pilot who steers right into an asteroid field to escape Imperial fighters, I mean. The term I have in mind is “charming rascal.” And I have to say that’s the one attitude or vibe that I’ve never gotten from Alden Ehrenreich, who’s been hired to play young Solo in a Star Wars spinoff-prequel that’ll focus on Solo’s early adventures.

Alden Ehrenreich as Hobie Doyle in Hail Caesar!.

I’ve watched Ehrenreich in five films over the last seven years (Tetro, Twixt, Blue Jasmine, Stoker, Hail Caesar!), and while none of the guys he played in these films were Solo types, I’ve never sensed so much as a hint of a posturing macho undercurrent. He’s always struck me as the quiet sincere type — a guy you can trust or fall in love with or vote for. Unassuming, modest, steady. Which is partly why his most successful portrayal so far has been as the soft-spoken, aw-shucksy Hobie Doyle in Hail Caesar!. He’s an underplayer. Definitely not the sort to shoot Greedo under the table.

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There’s one thing that everyone who sees Captain America: Civil War will absolutely agree upon, and that is the fact that it peaks with the Berlin airport brawl (BAB), which arrives around the 85-minute mark. Yes, I’ve mentioned this before but the entire world seems to be saying it now.

From A.O. Scott’s N.Y. Times review: “The best part of the movie is a six-on-six rumble at an airport, in which two teams of costumed co-workers, with a few ringers in the mix, face off to work out their issues. The battle is entertaining precisely because the stakes are relatively low. No planets, cities or galaxies are in peril, and you can enjoy the spectacle without any of the usual action-movie queasiness about invisible and extensive civilian casualties. And there is a solid, satisfying physicality to the effects.”

Here’s my 4.13.16 review.

This couldn’t be less important in the grand scheme of things, but to my knowledge this photo of a 1969 gathering for John Wayne‘s 62nd birthday contains the only color image ever printed or posted of Fred Macmurray without his rug. I remember seeing a b & w photo of an un-toupeed Macmurray many years ago, but this is the first color snap I’ve seen in my entire life. I’m sorry if it sounds inane, but I pay attention to this stuff.

(l. to r.) Clint Eastwood, Rock Hudson, Fred Macmurray, John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart, Ernest Borgnine, Michael Caine.

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I’ve always regarded indie-realm publicist Mickey Cottrell as a crafty and diligent hombre who knows the right people, always manages to push the right buttons, has excellent taste as far as the films and filmmakers he represents, and is a mensch on top of all that. And he’s a fairly decent actor besides.

Mickey Cottrell

In any event poor Mickey has been hit with a debilitating stroke, and I’m told his insurance won’t quite cover the 24-hour care that he’ll be needing. On top of which he also needs help with living expenses as he won’t be able to earn while he’s recovering. Cottrell’s friends have set up a compassionate GoFundMe campaign, and are asking all who know and love the guy (he’s been around forever) to throw in whatever they can afford.

The last time I threw in dough for a colleague was when journalist-critic Ed Douglas was having difficulty two or three years ago. Tough times happen to the best of us. Good friends and fellows rally round on such occasions.

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