[3:10 mark] “…and the party of a great man who should have been president and would’ve been one of the greatest presidents in history….Hubert Horatio Hornblower! Humphrey!”

I love Lily Gladstone’s Montana shitkicker accent, and especially the way she pronounces the last name of her Osage Nation character (“BURRKhahrt”) and the word “murders” (“merrduhhrrrs“). Born in ’86 and raised on the Blackfeet Nation reservation in Browning, Montana, Gladstone is an authentic country gal…talks it, owns it…forget the coasts.

Robert Wilke almost always played foul-tempered, sandpaper-voiced bad guys. He just had one of those faces. He’s probably best known as the High Noon “gunnie” whom Grace Kelly shot in the back during the final ten minutes. He also stood out as the loudmouth whom James Coburn killed with a fast flying knife in The Magnificent Seven.

In a career that spanned almost 50 years only once was Wilke called upon to show emotional vulnerability and anguish, and that was when he portrayed the conflicted farm foreman in Terrence Malick‘s Days of Heaven (’78). Only Malick saw a bit of depth in the man…only Malick asked him to step beyond the usual conventional shithead realms.

Wilke to Richard Gere (speaking about wealthy wheat farmer Sam Shepard): “I know what you’re doin'”…beat, beat…”that boy’s like a son to me.”

Wilke was a great amateur golfer.

Incidentally: Criterion’s 2010 Bluray of Days of Heaven has looked glorious from the get-go, and you’ll never convince me that the new 4K UHD version is going to look that much better on the 65″ Sony OLED. Maybe in subtle little ways but nothing that will lift me out of my seat. All the same there’s a little part of me that wants the damn thing anyway.

Donald Trump‘s ongoing trial over financial fraud is happening inside the New York County Supreme Court, 60 Centre Street, lower Manhattan. And yes, right behind that red-jacketed CNN reporter are the very same concrete steps that Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb and the other jurors walked down at the ending of 12 Angry Men.

Donald Trump imagining himself sitting next to Jesus H. Christ in court is…well, that’s one thing. But the brawny, NFL-ish, seriously-pumped, Anglo Saxon linebacker appearance of the Son of God….that’s something else. (This image was actually posted by Trump yesterday on Truth Social.) That’s kinda missing the point of who Jesus was, I think.

…to a low-rent horror aficionado like Allyra Cavidini? Her soul is in the abbatoir. Hey, Allyra, since you’re into horror, have you ever heard of the great Mort Glickman?

As we speak my primary impressions are the ones I was considering last summer — the technically too-old Phoenix will be great, Vanessa Kirby will probably be commanding, their acting behaviors seem too 21st Century (i.e., not Barry Lyndon-ish enough), the battle scenes will be tremendous. I’m sure that the presence of a major film in the wings will manifest before long, but right now I’m not feeling it. All things in their time.

I still say that a towering Elvis Presley (Jacob Elordi) and a teeny-weeny Priscilla Presley (Cailee Spaeny) is visually jarring. They just look weird together. Director Sofia Coppola should have cast to minimize height disparity — a shorter Elvis or a taller Priscilla.

The real-life Elvis and Priscilla were separated by eight inches of height — Elvis was 6’0″ and Priscilla was (and presumably still is) 5’4″. But in the film, the former Priscilla Beaulieu (later Presley) is played by the 59-inch-tall Spaeny (roughly the size of an eight-year-old) and Elvis is played by the 77-inch-tall Elordi.

Shawn Levy and Steven Knight‘s All the Light We Cannot See (Netflix limited series, 11.2) is a danger-fraught World War II saga. Set in Paris and Saint-Malo, it’s mainly about four characters — Marie-Laure Le Blanc (Aria Mia Loberti), a blind French teenager; her father Daniel Le Blanc (Mark Ruffalo); a teenaged German lad named Werner Pfennig (Louis Hofmann); and Marie-Laure’s great uncle Etienne (Hugh Laurie).

Levy and Knight adhered to woke casting requirements by not choosing the best skilled actress to play Marie-Laure (wokesters feel that traditional acting or “pretending” is ungenuine), but Loberti because of her real-life “legal” blindness.

Wiki page: “Loberti landed the part after a global search for a blind and low-vision actor. A fan of the book, she auditioned after learning about the search from a childhood orientation and mobility teacher. Despite no acting training, Loberti beat out thousands of submission to secure the role; it is her first ever acting role and was her first audition.”

The critics are hating it.

From yesterday’s “I’m Not Kidding About Barbie vs. Poor Things” thread:

Friendo notes similarities between Barbie (as played by Margot Robbie) and Bella (i.e., Emma Stone’s character in Poor Things):

1. Both are manufactured creations — Barbie built by Mattel, Bella built Mary Shelley-style by Willem “Scarface” Dafoe. And as such, both are wholly innocent as they begin their journeys.
2. Both are abused by men — Bella blatantly by her cruel, misogynist Londön husband during her first life, Barbie by being infantilized and otherwise diminished or pigeonholed by her Mattel creators.,
3. Both learn hard lessons about the real world.
4. Both acquire social justice awareness during film (awakening/awokening)
5. Both are vag-centric, vag-obsessed — “What’s this thing between my legs”?
6. Both female leads are pretty.
7. Both films feature terrific dance sequences.
8. Both films feature brilliant sets, costumes, makeup,
9. Both films diminish masculinity, reward wimpy background males.
10. Both have fun with meta humor.
11. Both Barbie and Bella trick & transform stupid male characters into falling for this or that.
12. At the end Barbie and Bella choose to live and thrive in the real world, empowered & surrounded by women.

Barbie and Poor Things are almost exactly the same movie — an attractive, spirited and completely naive (or childlike) young woman in her 20s encounters the big, bad, male-corrupted world for the very first time and somehow finds her way through the thicket, and emerges at the end of the tale with an emboldened, seen-it-all, “done with that bullshit” feminist attitude.

The only difference is that Poor Things is somewhere between throbbingly and obsessively sexual in an early ’70s sense of the term, and Barbie is plastic-ironic PG-rated by way of the Mattel corporation and a determination to be gay without actually being “gay”. Plus the only sexual act Barbie engages in, at the very end, is asking about birth control (“I’m here to see my gynecologist”).

Poor Things is obviously more perverse, not to mention more wildly imaginative in a Terry Gilliam kinda way, and Barbie is certainly slicker and more superficial in a consumer-friendly, vaguely toothless, wind-up-doll sort of way.

But when you get right down to it and boil out the snow, they’re pretty much the same movie, and this will factor heavily into the final voting for the Best Picture Oscar.

THR‘s Scott Feinberg, posted on 9.3.23: “While more than a few [Telluride] attendees found Poor Things — which I will only describe as Frankenstein meets Barbie, and which Searchlight will release on Dec. 8 — a bit too weird, and/or risqué and/or lengthy for their taste, the critical response to it has been off the charts.”

Critic friendo: “I agree completely [about the Barbie-Poor Things parallels]. I would add, however, that both movies are show-offy yet half-baked. In this context I’m almost enjoying the pile-up of woke piety — the Poor Things splooge fest.”