Christoph Waltz as a colorful eccentric is one thing. Perhaps it’s the only thing. But if you ask me he’s more interesting when he’s a bit icy and toned down, as he was in Roman Polanski‘s Carnage. Waltz is apparently back to eccentric in Terry Gilliam‘s The Zero Theorem. I don’t know, man. I’m not too sure about his performance or presence in Tim Burton‘s Big Eyes either. I don’t know anything any more.

A few hours ago I attended a graveside gathering for Jeffrey Ressner, a good friend and a first-rate journalist for Time, Politico, Rolling Stone, The Hollywood Reporter and Cashbox. Ressner died of a heart attack on 6.28. The memorial happened near the crest of a big green slope at the Burbank branch of Forest Lawn Cemetery. The eulogy line that everyone will remember came from producer pal Michael Lynn, who described Ressner as a “melancholy optimist.” Jeff’s interest was mainly in music (he began as a music industry reporter) but he also loved movies, and so I think he would have enjoyed the fact that his final resting place is fairly close to where Lee Marvin‘s “Walker” buried his wife, “Lynn Walker”, in John Boorman‘s Point Blank (’67). Ressner’s longtime partner Rina Echavez, his sister Lise Olsen, DGA Quarterly‘s James Greenberg, Deadline‘s Anita Busch, Amy Dawes, producer-writer Henry Schipper and several others attended.

Tuesday, 7.8.14, 12:45 pm.

In other words, if the Sharknado 2 producers had invested more money in the visual FX refinements it would somehow detract? The point of these stupid films, in other words, is to be ludicrously self-regarding. But this is Snakes On A Plane territory, and the lesson of that dud is that you can’t ever wink at the audience about anything. You have to play it as straight and earnest as Shakespeare. I’ll probably watch Sharknado 2, but the trailer tells me it won’t be much fun. I’ve no interest in laughing with the actors and the filmmakers and, you know, being nudged in the ribs. I want to laugh at them as they try to make something decent even though they’re doomed, of course, to fail. Because they’re untalented whores.

“With the exception of Kristen Stewart‘s alert, quietly arresting performance as a personal assistant to Juliette Binoche‘s famous, middle-aged actress undergoing an emotional-psychological downshift, Olivier Assayas‘s Clouds of Sils Maria (IFC Films, 12.1) is a talky, rather flat experience. It isn’t Persona or Three Women or All About Eve, although it seems to occasionally flirt with the material that these three films explored and dug into. MCN’s David Poland has written that it sometimes feels like “a female version of My Dinner With Andre” — generous! But on that note I’ll give Poland credit for thinking about this rather airless and meandering chit-chat film more than I did. It just didn’t light my torch. I agree with Poland on one point — it would have been a more interesting film if Assayas has focused more on Stewart and costar Chloe Moretz, who’s more or less playing a version of herself.” — posted on 5.23.14 from the Cannes Film Festival.

I under-described Richard Linklater‘s Boyhood (IFC Films, 7.11) in my initial Sundance review. Calling it “a mild-mannered thing, and yet obviously a mature, perceptive, highly intelligent enterprise” didn’t quite get it. No film in the history of motion pictures has ever delivered Boyhood‘s scope, concept or ingredients — the lives of a young Texas kid (Ellar Coltrane) and his sister (Lorelei Linklater) and their divorced parents (Ethan Hawke, Patricia Arquette) filmed over 11 or 12 years. So it’s really quite special and, yes, historic in that it captures stage-by-stage growth and aging and the usual surges and setbacks, but it’s also quite well done in each and every way. It’s never less than expert; never less than intriguing or astute or resonant. And yet it’s fair, as I stated last January, to call it “a remarkably novel, human-scale, life-passage stunt film.”

Boyhood grows on you like anything or anyone else that you might gradually get to know over a long stretch, and yet the 160 minutes fly right by. The long-haul scheme naturally gets in the way of what most of us would call a riveting drama. A film of this type is not going to knock you down with some third-act punch. It drip-drip-drips its way into your movie-watching system.

“This country is too fucking big. I honestly think…in nature, if a cell gets too big, it divides. You can’t come up with a set of rules that’s going to work for 350 million people. You’re just not. So we’re stuck. Robert Kennedy had this great quote: ’20 percent of people are against everything, all the time.’ That’s a big number now. And you know what? ‘No’ is easy. ‘No’ doesn’t require any follow-up, commitment. ‘Yes’ is hard, ‘yes’ has to be worked on. It needs a lot of people to keep it as ‘yes.’ That’s where we’re at. When I’m President, we’re going back to the Thirteen Colonies, is what we’re going to do. It’s a weird time. Because the trajectory…wow, I look around and I’m alarmed. I guess every generation feels that way, I don’t know, but I’m really alarmed. I talk to smart people who work in fields either, you know, neuro-cognition or social analysis, I go, ‘Am I going nuts or is this thing going a certain direction, really fast?’ All of them go, ‘You’re not imagining things.’ And I go, ‘What do we do?’ This could turn into Mad Max, like tomorrow. The fabric is so thin, I feel like.” — Steven Soderbergh to Esquire‘s Mike Ayers in a 7.7. posting.

How far away is “we’re going back to the Thirteen Colonies” and “this could turn into Mad Max” from my suggestion of isolating the rural, under-educated dumb-asses of the South and Midwest by allowing them to fend for themselves in a kind of Slovakia-like splinter nation? I’m not saying Soderbergh is exactly on the same page as me but he’s clearly standing inside the same alarmist ballpark and is thinking about possible solutions that might strike some as a bit radical.

For whatever sloppy or forgetful reason I’d forgotten until today to put James Marsh‘s Theory of Everything (Focus Features, 11.7) under the “Presumed High Pedigree” section of HE’s Oscar Balloon. (I should change the title to “Likeliest Best Picture Contenders” because that’s what it really means.) It could be this year’s A Beautiful Mind — a brilliant young fellow with a bright future is brought down by tragic illness, but he eventually rebounds with his intellect undmimmed and in fact all the stronger. Eddie Redmayne as super-genius physicist Stephen Hawking, and Felicity Jones as his wife Jane. (The other Oscar-bait movie about an eccentric-nerd brainiac is the Weinstein Co.’s Imitation Game, about the WW II-era cryptogrqpher Alan Turing, played by Benedict Cumberbatch, who incidentally played Hawking in a 2004 British TV film.)

Awards Daily‘s Sasha Stone is wondering if Tate Taylor‘s Get On Up (Universal, 8.1), the James Brown biopic starring Chadwick Boseman, will get slapped around for being a white person’s take on a black man’s saga. Or that the gritty realism of Brown’s story will somehow be soft-pedaled or watered down or tidied up. A little while ago we talked it over. I read a month-old riff by HE reader Anna Zed: “Brown’s bombastic personality and unmistakeable personal style, not to mention his checkered personal life, really don’t seem like they would lend themselves to this kind of glossy wash . [Brown] was a very dark-skinned black man, intensely muscular and frenetic, thick necked and small (not matinee idol or even lead-singer material for the period that he emerged from) who just burst past all these hindrances by sheer force of will, fantastic charisma and unstoppable originality as a musical stylist. Boseman is lithe and handsome but sort of winsome and sweet and nonthreatening, and I see none of Brown in him.” Again, our brief exploration of this and other matters.

Sasha and I also briefly discussed Life Itself, the Roger Ebert doc, as well as the just-out trailer for David Fincher‘s Gone Girl.

Four impressions off the top of my head. One, this is going to be Zodiac-level good but minus the thematic or evidential uncertainty that comes with any “cold case.” Two, Rosamund Pike appears to be playing a very chilly character. Three, Ben Affleck is acting well outside his comfort zone here and that’s the way we like it. Four, could Gone Girl contain the first tolerable performance from Tyler Perry?

Kevin Smith recently spoke in Switzerland about having visited the set of J.J. Abrams‘ Star Wars, Episode VII. He couldn’t say much due to having signed a non-disclosure agreement, but he said this much: “So we go to the set, and they’re actually shooting — and this is what I can’t tell you what they were shooting — but what I saw I absolutely loved. It was tactile. It wasn’t a series of fucking green and blue screens in which later on digital characters would be added. It was there. It was happening. I saw uniforms. I saw artillery that I haven’t seen since I was a kid. I saw them shooting an actual sequence in a set that is real — I walked across the set; there were explosions — and it looked like a shot right out of a fucking Star Wars movie.

Abrams is “building a tacticle world, a world you can touch. And he’s replicating it with all the love of somebody that has the world’s greatest collection of Star Wars figures. It’s like Field of Dreams, and if J.J. builds it, we’re all going to come hard because it’s amazing. It looks fantastic. So anyone out there wondering if he’s going to pull it off? He’s pulling it off. He showed me cut scenes. He showed me sequences, images, pictures. I cried, and I hugged that guy. And I’m sure as I was crying and hugging on him that he was thinking ‘time is money’ because they’re making a movie. But he got it. He was very flattered. And I was like, ‘Honestly dude, you’re doing it. You’re making my childhood again. You’re doing our Star Wars.’ What I saw blew me away.”

Last night I spoke to a friend who knows a woman who recently saw Paul Thomas Anderson‘s Inherent Vice (Warner Bros., 12.12). Her initial nutshell reaction was that she “didn’t get it” because…well, how could I know? But one of the apparent blockages was that it doesn’t adhere to a precise narrative through-line that led anywhere in particular (i.e., no third-act payoff). But then she started to understand it a bit more when she began to think about it the next day. A film that’s more about the journey than the destination. I told this guy that three months ago an industry friend who’d seen Vice had described it in a similar way, calling it “brilliant and mesmerizing in an atmospheric, non-linear sort of way” as well as “Lebowski-esque.”

As reported on 7.2, I’ve heard “convincing chatter” that Vice will debut at the New York Film Festival.

Here‘s an interesting excerpt from Paul Seydor, Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman‘s commentary on the Twilight Time Bluray of The Train. They’re basically saying that 21st Century moviegoers are completely accepting of action feats that no one outside of cyborgs would be able to do in any realm governed by the laws of physics. Even people in the best of shape (i.e., X-treme sports champs) get tired and bruised and can only handle so much. They’re capable of this and that but they’re made of flesh, blood and bone. And yet vulnerability is something you rarely see in films these days. That, again, is due to the ComicCon influence, and that is why someday you will see certain producers and directors facing charges in the cinematic equivalent of the Nuremberg War Crimes trials. I can’t wait to prosecute. Here, again, is the mp3.