I need to upgrade my summer wardrobe…yeah, Club Monaco has the right idea…shorts, sneakers, baseball cap and a generic dork shirt. Why didn’t I think of this combo myself?
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Just a couple of gals with a laid-back, take-what-comes existential attitude, rough and ready with a full tank but in no particular hurry…life is a journey, an adventure, and cruising along in leather-upholstered seats with a rumbling, well-tuned engine under the hood makes all the difference.
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Only seven weeks left of summer because that’s when Telluride ‘22 kicks off. The official poster popped today:
Ernest Borgnine passed almost exactly ten years ago. He did a lot of interviews and told a lot of stories later in life, and one that I never forgot involved a verbal confrontation with a group of Italian guys in some quiet New York City neighborhood. (Or possibly in Boston or Rhode Island or Newark, New Jersey...some northeastern city with a significant Italian population.)
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This is a weird detour but when I think of passengers falling out of airplanes, I think of three scenes: (a) Eddie Albert's Cadet Hughes falling out of a B-17 at 10,000 feet in Bombardier ('43), (b) Gert Frobe's portly Auric Goldfinger getting sucked out of a small window in a private airborne jet in Goldfinger ('64) and (c) Ed Nelson's Major Alexander, a 747 co-pilot, getting sucked through a smashed cockpit window in Airport 75.
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Yesterday afternoon Variety‘s Elizabeth Wagmeister and Sasha Urban reported that TMZ’s 7.9.22 report about Armie Hammer is true — he is indeed working at a certain hotel resort in the Cayman Islands (i.e., Morritts Resort), and reportedly focusing on selling timeshares.
Excerpt: “A source tells Variety that Hammer is indeed working selling timeshares at a hotel in the Caymans, and that all other reports suggesting otherwise are inaccurate. ‘He is working at the resort and selling timeshares. He is working at a cubicle,” [the source] explains. “The reality is he’s totally broke, and is trying to fill the days and earn money to support his family.”
Armie’s salesman hair is too short. He looks better with longer, wavier hair and the bushy beard.
Update: Vanity Fair‘s Julie Miller has reported that at the height of Hammer’s career meltdown, which apparently had something to do with a substance issue, Robert Downey, Jr. stepped in a like a big brother and paid for Hammer’s nearly six-month rehab stay.
A friend was a tad skeptical about the trailer for Maria Schrader‘s She Said (Universal, 11.18), which popped this morning. Actually two friends were, but this film is going to sail through.
“No, no…this is good,” I replied. “I can feel it. It has discipline, tension…first-rate acting from Carey Mulligan, Zoe Kazan and, as Weinstein employee Zelda Perkins, Samantha Morton. A well-honed screenplay by Rebecca Lenkiewicz. Nicholas Britell‘s music is a little overbearing** but this is Spotlight again.”
This is a Best Picture contender — no question, no doubt. If Spotlight can get there, this can too.
The victims weren’t children being molested by priests and some who were invited to Harvey’s first-class hotel rooms had to be at least wary of what might happen, but this is one of those social justice, social portraiture flicks that can’t miss, at least as far as a Best Picture nomination is concerned.
“Apparently Harvey isn’t played by anyone. Well, he is, but not as a speaking character with a puss. There’s a clip of a big fat guy we see from the rear, but we don’t see his face. We hear Harvey’s voice on a speakerphone during a conference call, but his voice isn’t deep or punchy enough.”
A guy who’s allegedly caught a research screening:
“Better than a TV movie. Not sure about Best Picture, but Samantha Morton and Carey Mulligan are the MVPs. Very intelligently made and well-directed. They smartly show the effect of the abuse. Victims go back to the hotel rooms, reenact what happened in the bed and shower, but with their clothes on. It’s very Spotlight, maybe too much so. It also has a fantastic ending. We never get to see Weinstein’s face, only see his back and hear his voice.”
Pic is produced by Plan B’s Brad Pitt, Dede Gardner and Jeremy Kleiner.
Lenkiewicz’s screenplay is based on Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey’s “She Said.”
Sincere apologies to Larry Karaszewski, but I don’t have many fond memories of Robert Altman‘s Short Cuts (’93). I saw it 29 years ago, once, and all I remember is the faintly dreary vibes and the cast behaving in the usual eccentric, Altman-esque ways and the visual drabness and the Julianne Moore-Matthew Modine argument scene with the pubic hair and that soul-baring scene with Jack Lemmon “acting” in his usual actor-ish fashion.
I “respect” Short Cuts, of course, but there’s a reason why I haven’t re-watched it in all this time. The reason is the miserable downishness of Raymond Carver‘s short stories. If I was suddenly stuck in a Carver story or wearing the shoes of a Carver character, I would become a heroin addict.
Respectful disagreement with the late Michael Wilmington: “Short Cuts is a Los Angeles jazz rhapsody that represents Robert Altman at an all-time personal peak—and it came at just the right time in his career. For anyone who believed that what American movies needed most, after the often-moribund cinematic eighties, was more of the old Altman independent spirit and maverick brilliance — and more of a sense of what the country really is, rather than what it should be — the director’s sudden cinematic reemergence with 1992’s The Player and 1993’s Short Cuts was an occasion for bravos.”
Without even thinking it through it's my earnest belief that Harrison Ford's best performance ever is Jack Ryan in Clear and Present Danger ('94), followed by his Philadelphia detective in Witness ('85 -- his only Best Actor nomination), Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back ('80), Ally Fox in The Mosquito Coast ('86), Deckard in Blade Runner ('82), the widower in Random Hearts, the hosthot executive in Working Girl and the TV anchor in Morning Glory.
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Remember that scene in Manchester by the Sea when Casey Affleck is arguing with Lucas Hedges and finally says “I’m gonna knock your fucking block off” and director-writer Kenneth Lonergan, playing a passerby, sarcastically says “great parenting” to Affleck and the yelling ratches up another couple of notches?
Let’s imagine another scene in which a pair of Philadelphia brothers, aged 10 and 14, voluntarily surrender to the cops over having killed a 73-year-old guy (James Lambert) who was beaten to death on 6.24.22.
Imagine that you’re aware of the whole story behind this tragedy, and you come upon the parents of these kids outside the police precinct. What would be the appropriate dialogue? Would you say “great parenting” or would you say “the poor guy was beaten to death around 3 am, for Chrissake…what kind of parents let their kids run wild at 3 am?? And what kind of parents raise kids who would even want to beat a guy to death??”
A 10 year-old kid who helps beat an old guy to death is going to turn out wrong…that’s obvious. But imagine how it feels if you’re the father or the mother of these little shits.
Friendo: “This story is a complete disaster and one the media will barely cover, for obvious reasons.”
HE: “What do you mean ‘a complete disaster’? It was a matter of neighborhood culture and whatnot, but mainly derelict parenting…poisonous, appalling, derelict parenting.”
“[Many of today’s] screenwriters have gone to college for four or five years, and where they’ve been told incessantly [that] the world is inherently racist and sexist…everyone is awful, everyone hates each other and it’s just this big heirarchy of everyone getting oppressed by everyone else, and so that’s going to be reflected in what they write and what they try to rationalize in their stories, and that’s why [we’re getting what we’re getting].”
In the view of Will Jordan‘s “Critical Drinker” (or, if you will, just plain Jordan) a good portion of the woke poisoning of iconic characters has happened under the influence of the Disney death star.
“They took over the Stars Wars brand, they took over Marvel…and in the case of Star Wars you would see characters like Han Solo, Luke Skywalker…these classic heroes from 20, 30 years ago” — actually 40 to 45 years ago — “that were awesome, and suddenly they’re gettin’ brought back and [they’ve become] deadbeat dads or grumpy old men livin’ on an island, and they want to die and have lost all hope…it’s a terrible thing to do to these characters…it’s one thing to kill them off, and another to destroy their legacy and the very essence of who they were.”
Sara Dosa's Fire of Love (Neon/National Geographic, 7.6) tells the story of devoted (one could say obsessive) volcanologists Katia and Maurice Krafft, who died in a volcanic explosion atop Japan's Mount Unzen on 6.3.91 -- 31 years ago.
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