Shower Control Instruction Video

Remember when showers used to have a hot water spigot on the left, a cold water spigot on the right and one in between that determined whether the water came out of the shower head or the bathtub faucet? Remember when you didn’t have to study a manual in order to take a shower at a hotel? When you didn’t have as many options in the shower as you might find on a Boeing 777 control panel? Remember when they had little round soft-rubber plugs with chains that you could pop into the drain spout and that would be that and no bullshit? I hate these showers….hate them. The last time I took a shower with the old reliable spigots was at London’s Dorchester in 2010, when I was staying there for a Fantastic Mr. Fox junket.

Last Time I’ll Mention This

There’s no disputing that Nebraska is a huge critical favorite and a likely Best Picture contender. But now that it’s opened in New York and L.A. do any HE regulars have a problem with what I feel is a ludicrous plot device — i.e., Bruce Dern‘s Woody believing (or having willed himself into believing) that he’s won a million bucks from Publisher’s Clearing House, an outfit so laughably disreputable that it was used as the butt of a joke in Fletch, the 1985 Chevy Chase comedy?

Does anyone else believe, as Bloomberg’s Greg Evans wrote last Friday, that “anywhere else but in this movie, Woody’s quest would evidence a high level of dementia” and that Dern’s son, played by Will Forte, “could clear up all misunderstandings by producing the ludicrous [PCH] certificate, but that would pop the bubble that Nebraska so coyly blows”?

On top of which, as I wrote last May, “not one of the in-laws and old friends of Woody’s who hear about his having won a million bucks from Publisher’s Clearing House…not one of them of them raises an eyebrow or smells the faint whiff of bullshit or asks about any particulars? All they want to do is talk to Woody about him paying them money that he owes them? If a friend of mine to whom I’d lent money had told me he’s expecting to come into a lot of cash from the tooth fairy, my first reaction wouldn’t be ‘oh, great — now you can pay me back.’ My first reaction would be ‘the tooth fairy?'”

Rope of Silicon‘s Brad Brevet felt as I did when he posted his review from Cannes. Nebraska is obviously a refined, well-made film, but it’s very caught up in — and accepting of — small, snarly, scowling mentalities that don’t seem to open the door to anything all that endearing or affecting. Except for that one moment between Woody and his son in the pickup truck at the very end.

Breakfast Blahs

The problem with staying at nice, semi-expensive hotels is that you’re always surrounded by couples in their late 60s and 70s, and more particularly by old balding guys in shorts and sandals with blotchy skin and knobby knees and bare feet. I’m sorry but something snapped when I was having breakfast this morning. Everywhere I turned I was looking at alabaster old-man toes encased in rubber sandals. I’m sorry but I can’t stand the company of older retired couples, or more precisely the metaphor that they convey. I like walking around Manhattan in the fall and winter with hard-working careerists and creatives and snappy-minded hipsters of whatever age with certain sense of style. And yet there I was this morning on the 14th floor, sipping coffee and quietly seething as I asked myself, “Why am I the only person in this hotel who’s wearing John Varvatos shoes with Urban Outfitter socks? Why does every person in this room appear to have never even considered distinctive apparel of any kind? Why do they all refuse to wear anything other than the standard golf shirt, shorts and sandals outfit?” I’m not trying to be amusing. I’m serious. It’s profoundly depressing to be around these people.

Remember When Gregg Kinnear Had A Kind Of Hip Aura?

I’ll go with Haley Joel Osment seeing dead people in The Sixth Sense or Warren Beatty moving from body to body in Heaven Can Wait, but I won’t tolerate a little kid telling his parents what heaven is like in Heaven Is For Real (Sony, 4.16.14). Especially when the director is the stalwart and conservative-minded Randall Wallace (Secretariat, We Were Soldiers). Righties are such sentimental saps about Jesus and the flag and American exceptionalism and heaven. You know what happens when you die? Somehow or some way the human body delivers a kind of hormonal trigger that results in a brief sense of ecstatic destiny. And then it’s lights out, power off and a perfect serene sleep that you won’t wake up from. Well, you will in a sense because you’ll be reborn as a baby but it won’t matter because 99.9% of us don’t remember our previous lives so you might as well resign yourself to an eternal flatline.

“Skewering Conservative Stereotypes”

I tried watching an episode or two of Amazon’s Alpha House last night but there were the usual streaming-from-overseas problems. I started to use the Tunnel Bear solution but then I made the mistake of lying down and that was all she wrote. Has anyone given it a whirl, and are there any reactions to share? A Gary Trudeau thing “skewering conservative stereotypes.” The reviews have been good. John Goodman sleeping in the shower. A Bill Murray meltdown cameo. Right up my alley.

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Rubble In The Fires of Hell

For me Hue will always be the inferno-like, concrete-rubble city where Full Metal Jacket concluded. I arrived here last night around 11 pm. I took a 15-minute walk near the Moonlight Hue hotel around 11:30 pm and in that time frame I was solicited four times. Guy on scooter: “You want girl?” Me: “No, thank you!” Guy on scooter: “Hey, c’mon, man…” Me: “Look, man…no. Okay? Not interested.” But I might have responded if he had said, “C’mon, man, she love you long time boom boom.” To me Hue is the city that inspired the final lines of Stanley Kubrick‘s Vietnam War classic (which were either written by Gustav Hasford or Michael Herr): “I am so happy that I am alive, in one piece and short. I’m in a world of shit…yes. But I am alive and not afraid.” I would rather cherish that perfect 1987 moment than sample any present-tense comforts, no offense.

Award For Non-Visual Acting

Two nights ago the Rome Film Festival did a bold and original thing by giving Scarlett Johansson its Best Actress award for her voice-over performance in Spike Jonze’s Her. I said in my initial reaction that this is Johansson’s best performance ever, and she doesn’t even appear on-screen. It would be very, very cool if SAG or the Academy or even the HFPA were to honor her with at least a nomination. (SAG conservatives wouldn’t touch this if Scarjo were voicing some kind of Avatar-like CG character, but she simply acted with her voice so where’s the threat?) Congrats also to Dallas Buyer’s Club‘s Matthew McConaughey for snagging the fest’s Best Actor prize, and to DBC itself for winning the BNL Audience Award for Best Film. Scott Cooper‘s Out of the Furnace was also named Best First or Second Feature.

Woody Allen Gave Me Same Look Once

This guy didn’t like it when I started snapping pictures. First he gave me one of those “are you about to steal a little piece of my soul?” expressions that I’ve seen every time I’ve taken a random quickie of this or that unprepared human. Then he came over and stuck his arm through the bars and swatted me across the forehead. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He didn’t try to scratch or cut my skin with his nails. It was just a mild “fuck you and your camera” swat. He made his point. I ignored him completely but I understood what he was saying.

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Ha Long Diversion

The drive from Hanoi to Ha Long Bay is no picnic. Three hours and change, lots of traffic, two-lane blacktop, road construction, etc. And submitting to a Ha Long Bay tourist cruise aboard the Annam Junk made me feel like a very well-treated steer. I just don’t like being herded along. But the area is one of God’s greatest creations and the Vietnamese tourism industry tries very hard to make everyone feel special and honored so I should just ease up and call it a nice pleasant time. Which it was.

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Best Actress Club

Yesterday HE commenter “Morpheus” and HE’s own LexG (i.e., “Ray Quick”) briefly discussed the differences between the Best Actor and Best Actress realms. Please understand I am not signaling 100% agreement with Lex’s comment but he’s hit on something worth sharing, I think.

Morpheus: “It’s sad how year after year it is far more exciting to talk about the Best Actor field than it is to talk about the Best Actress field. It’s so weak [and] has been so weak that Streep needs only make a movie to be in contention. If Daniel Day Lewis was a woman he’d [have] won it for not only Gangs Of New York but also for The Crucible.”

Ray Quick: “That’s because the field is exclusive year in and year out to the same campy blowsy hens who eschew romcoms or visual sexiness to give ball-busting BIG performances — Streep, Blanchett, Winslet, Adams…all the same CANNED FUCKING HAMS while subtler, nuanced [performances] like those from Brie Larson or Saoirse Ronan get overlooked, and we all coo and awwww around the yearly inevitable BA/BSA ‘fifth’ spot for some newcomer/flash-in-the-pan, hot chick, kid with weird name who just cut to the front of the line like an Armenian guy at an airport queue.”

Lex is referring, of course, to Blue Is The Warmest Color‘s Adele Exarchpoulos.

No Dallas Schmoozer For Me

If I was back in Los Angeles I would be at the Dallas Buyer’s Club party at Craft in Century City, which began about an hour ago (i.e., 1:30 pm). I’m there in spirit! The last time I checked Focus Features was still stiffing award-focused Hollywood sites with a “sorry, no ads” policy, but this has no bearing on our enthusiasm for the film, of course. Matthew McConaughey, Jared Leto, Jennifer Lawrence in attendance along with screenwriters Craig Borten and Melissa Wallack and producer Robbie Brenner, among others.