Daily

Somewhere within Prague’s Stare Mesto, taken last week and sent along by Jett, who just returned to London after a visit to the Czech Republic capital as well as Budapest (seven hours from Prague by bus).

Five or six days ago in Prague

“There are racists in western Pennsylvania, as there are in most pockets of our country,” N.Y. Times columnist Frank Rich writes in today’s edition. “But despite the months-long drumbeat of punditry to the contrary, there are not and have never been enough racists in 2008 to flip this election. In the latest New York Times/CBS News and Pew national polls, Obama is now pulling even with McCain among white men, a feat accomplished by no Democratic presidential candidate in three decades, Bill Clinton included.

“Nor is America’s remaining racism all that it once was, or that the McCain camp has been hoping for it to be. There are even ‘racists for Obama,’ as Politico labels the phenomenon: White Americans whose distrust of black people in general crumbles when they actually get to know specific black people, including a presidential candidate who extends a genuine helping hand in a time of national crisis.

“The original ‘racist for Obama,’ after all, was none other than Obama’s own white, Kansas-raised grandmother, the gravely ill Madelyn Dunham, whom he visited in Hawaii on Friday. In ‘Dreams From My Father,’ Obama wrote of how shaken he was when he learned of her overwhelming fear of black men on the street. But he weighed that reality against his unshakeable love for her and hers for him, and he got past it.

“When Obama cited her in his speech on race last spring, the right immediately accused him of ‘throwing his grandmother under the bus.’ But Obama’s critics were merely projecting their own racial hang-ups. He still loves his grandmother. He was merely speaking candidly and generously — like an adult — about the strange, complex and ever-changing racial dynamics of America. He hit a chord because many of us have had white relatives of our own like his, and we, too, see them in full and often love them anyway.

“Such human nuances are lost on conservative warriors of the Allen-McCain-Palin ilk. They see all Americans as only white or black, as either us or them. The dirty little secret of such divisive politicians has always been that their rage toward the Others is exceeded only by their cynical conviction that Real Americans are a benighted bunch of easily manipulated bigots. This seems to be the election year when voters in most of our myriad Americas are figuring that out.”

A 70mm presentation of West Side Story played last night at Santa Monica’s Aero. It’s a stodgy, dated, mediocre film in so many ways. But the Leonard Bernstein score (and the Stephen Sondheim lyrics) will always be beautiful, so I delayed a dinner date so I could drive over and buy a ticket in order to watch the first 20 or so minutes, which is the only part I can stand.

The rest of it is mixed to painful. The fresh red paint on the tenement walls is ludicrous. The casting of Richard Beymer as Tony and Natalie Wood as Maria was fatal. Even back in the day people were shocked — appalled — at the use of the term “daddy-o.”

I’ve barely seen any Blu-rays of classic black-and-white films, but enough to know that the format is heaven for anyone with a serious monochrome jones. So my interest in the forthcoming Scott Derrickson-Keanu Reeves remake of The Day The Earth Stood Still (20th Century Fox, 12.12) is, I have to admit, at the very least matched by interest in the remastered Blu-ray of the1951 black-and-white original with Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal, Billy Gray, Sam Jaffe and Hugh Marlowe, which is out on 12.2.

An MSNBC reporter in Scranton said this morning he’d recently spoken to a middle-aged woman who’s still undecided about Obama-McCain, still wants to know more, etc. Meaning, of course, that she’s (a) profoundly uncurious or otherwise lazy, (b) intellectually challenged, or (c) would rather not say what she’s actually thinking to a TV reporter. (Or a combination of all three.) Most voters of her ilk are probably going to break for McCain, which might mean a final national lead for Obama in the range of six or seven points rather than nine or ten when all is said and done.

Then the reporter spoke about John MCain planning to hold a rally tomorrow evening in Putzville, Pennsylvania, and my mood immediately brightened. For 15 or 20 seconds. Until I did a search and saw how the town’s name is actually spelled. If only!

“Of the three Blu-ray Connery Bond’s that I’ve covered to date, Dr. No (10.21) looks the best yet — which may sound surprising as it is the oldest film. Colors are vibrant and detail shows a good deal of gratifying sharpness. Black levels are pitch. The image overall is quite beautiful — far in advance of anything put to SD-DVD. It resides on a dual-layered Blu-ray and the feature takes up 28.5 gigs. It felt like I was watching this initial Bond entry for the very first time — what an addictive image!

Sean Connery in Dr. No (1962)

“I am blown away by this image clarity, tightness and pristine contrast. Noise is minimal and grain is replaced with a natural smoothness that I assume moviegoers saw as well over 45 years ago. No DNR or edge-enhancement in sight — this image quality is marvelous.” — from Gary Tooze‘s recently-posted review on DVD Beaver.

A closing note for the 1.85 fascists who’ve been claiming that 1.85 was the norm going back to the early to mid ’50s. The aspect ratio on the Dr. No Blu-ray is 1.66 to 1 — hah! I recognize that the British were more into this aspect ratio than the Americans back then, but 1.66 was definitely a viable format at the time (i.e., one that hadn’t been dumped in the ’50s). If the 1.85 brownshirts had had their way, the image on this spiffy-sounding Blu-Ray would have been artificially shaved on the tops and bottoms. Everyone who spoke out in favor of Touch of Evil in 1.85 needs to strip their shirts off and beat themselves with birch branches.

Last night the Orlando Sentinel‘s Hal Boedeker reported that the Obama campaign has called WFTV news anchor Barbara West‘s 10.23 interview with Sen. Joe Biden “unprofessional and combative.” Look at West’s conservative blonde coif, her surgically sculpted, sanded-down features and particularly her cold timberwolf eyes as she asks her pathetic Steve Schmidt-playbook questions.

In a chat last night with Boedker, West said “I have a great deal of respect for [Biden]. I have a great deal of respect for Sen. Obama. We are given four minutes of a satellite window for these interviews. Four precious minutes. I got right down to it and, yes, I think I asked him some pointed questions. These are questions that are rolling about right now and questions that need to be asked. I don’t think I was rude or inconsiderate to him. I think I was probing and maybe tough.
“I can’t believe that in all of his years in politics, and all of his campaigning and such, that he hasn’t run into some tough questions before. He’s certainly up to it in giving good answers.”
Obama-Biden campagin’s Florida spokesperson Adrianne Marsh said that West’s questions made clear she was “woefully uninformed about simple facts.”
Biden did himself proud, yes, but West is fooling no one. This pinched harridan was mouthing Republican attack points, plain and simple, and revealing no interest whatsoever in impartial journalistic inquiry. She may sit behind a TV news desk wearing a nice suit, but she is at one with the zanies from Henderson, Nevada and with the likes of evangelical right-wing Minnesota congressperson Michele Bachmann.

“There is one thing I can do as well as ever — I can write,” Roger Ebert said yesterday. “When I am writing my problems become invisible and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be.
“After my first stretch in the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago, I began to write again, a little. After my second, I returned to a nearly normal schedule. This spring during my third rehab, I was able to log onto a wi-fi network and begin writing much more. This year, which has included two major surgeries, I have so far written 170 reviews, 22 Answer Man columns, 28 Great Movie essays (not all yet published), and 37 blog entries.
“In May, I began to sense a change going on. At first it was subjective. This autumn it has become undeniable. My writing has improved.
“By that I don’t mean it’s objectively better from the reader’s point of view. I mean it has expanded within my mind, reaches deeper, emerges more clearly, is more satisfactory. Sometimes I glory in it — not the quality of the prose, but the quality of the experience. I find myself writing more, because I will return to that zone longer.
“I take dictation from that place within my mind that knows what to say. I think most good writers do. There is no such thing as waiting for inspiration. The idea of ‘diagramming’ an essay in advance, as we are taught in school, may be useful to students but is foolishness for any practicing writer. The Muse visits during the process of creation, not before.”

After predicting a weekend gross between $35 and $38 million on 10.22, Fantasy Moguls’ Steve Mason is now reporting a projected 3-day haul in the region of $55 million for High School Musical 3. Saw V is looking at $29 million, give or take. Gavin O’Connor‘s Pride and Glory is looking at $6 million.

In a surprisingly scathing pan of Clint Eastwood’s Changeling, New Republic senior editor Christopher Orr has called it “not merely a contender for the worst film of the year, but a contender for the worst domestic tragedy, the worst conspiracy thriller, the worst serial killer flick, and the worst courtroom drama. It is that rare movie which, long after you think it’s exhausted the possibilities, keeps discovering new ways to fail.”
Except it’s very well handled, all of a piece, believably “period,” an “Eastwood film,” a nicely grounded cruise-a-long. You can feel the hand of a guy who knows how to do this, even if he’s not exactly at the peak of his game in this instance. I felt, in other words, no major discomfort when I saw it last May at the Cannes Film Festival, but I was also convinced that it’s not top-drawer Eastwood. Nobody anywhere thinks that. And yet it’s quite passable. It may be off-balance or under-done or imprecise in this or that way, but it’s never painful.

There’s some kind of injection software that allows the creator (or the sender) to pop anyone’s name into this video. Re-name and send to friends. Thanks to HE reader “Pete” for pushing it my way.