Sex is between your legs and gender is between your ears…fine. But why do so many in the trans community get so fucking angry when you question the notion that gender isn’t quite as fluid and indistinct and comme ci comme ca as they assert?

I don’t know anyone who wants to give the trans community a hard time. I certainly never have or wanted to. My basic attitude is whatevs, no problem, live your lives, etc. Everyone feels this way.

But with last November’s arrival of Sutton, my granddaughter, I’ve been feeling triggered by progressive activists in the educational system wanting to force-feed gender ideology to young children. I feel kids should be left alone until…I don’t know exactly, but probably when they approach puberty. And don’t even talk about asking little kids which gender they identify with, or God forbid acting upon their answers with this or that medicinal (Lupron) or surgical measure.

The main impetus behind the hardcore progressive wokester cabal is not just about showing compassion and acceptance for historically marginalized or put-upon communities (African Americans, women, LGBTQ, transgender), but also about bending over backwards to make things right by abruptly and radically reversing biological embeds. One way of achieving this is by threatening sensible centrists and left-moderates with toxic social-media accusations and even career destruction.

Either you’re with us or you’re a racist or a sexist or a homophobe or an anti-trans bigot. Either you’re with us or you’re crabgrass, and you need to be yanked out of the soil. I can’t wait until these fine folks are on the run and searching for tall grass.

It is my solemn, fully considered belief that wokesters are a pernicious ideological movement. It is my solemn, fully considered belief that many on the progressive left have literally gone insane. Thank God the social-political pendulum is starting to swing away from the crazies, and I think many of them realize this. I’ve gradually come to feel over the last three or four years that progressive wokesters deserve serious pushback, and lemme tell ya it feels very good to be part of a growing community that is doing the pushing.

Last night I watched Matt Walsh‘s What Is A Woman?, a 94-minute documentary (available only through a Daily Wire subscription). Mainstream media types have slagged it as anti-trans, but it’s just a simple, rudimentary, building-block exploration of the basics.

All Walsh does, really, is to politely ask trans activists and various professional-class specialists (college profs, psychologists, surgeons) what a woman is, and to apply the measure of basic biological fact against their political theory.

None of them give Walsh a straight answer, and two or three raise their backs and threaten to terminate their interview when Walsh tries to insert the concepts of basic logic and fundamental biological reality.

These are people, it is quite clear, who are living in their own bubble, and when Walsh tries to discuss the roots of trans ideology they all go cold and stiff and defensive. Calm and measured at first, they all gradually smell where Walsh is coming from, and seem unable to handle his basic, mild-mannered, sensible-sounding inquiries, almost certainly because to do so would open them up to political difficulties from trans activists. They know who butters their bread.

Has Walsh assembled his documentary in the manner of peak-strength Michael Moore, by presenting a somewhat slanted view of things? You could argue this, yeah, but if I didn’t see the harm when Moore did it so how can I complain about it now?

The thing that stuck in my mind is the hostility. Angry, arch-backed responses always expose weak viewpoints and purist radical temperaments.

David Cronenberg‘s Crimes of the Future opened three days ago (6.3). I’m presuming that the reviews scared a lot of would-be viewers off — not the negative judgments, of which there are very few, but the descriptions of the surgical slicings and glurpy body parts, not to mention “ear man.” But some HE followers are bolder and more inquisitive, or so I tell myself. Please share if you went there.

Just to get things started, here are some excerpts from my 5.24 Cannes review:

1. As far as it goes, Crimes is a respectable, dialogue-driven, high-concept chamber piece. Baroque, perverse, concentrated.

2. Where does it stand on my Cronenberg preference list? Somewhere in the middle, just above Dead Ringers and Naked Lunch. My all-time favorite Cronenberg film is still The Dead Zone, followed by A History of Violence, Crash, The Fly and Scanners.

3. Crimes of the Future is basically a play . There’s never any doubt that you’re watching a thoughtful, rigorously sculpted effort by a grade-A auteur. It’s not elevated horror but a kind of perversely erotic body-probe mood piece.

4. Remove the physical-effects stuff — bizarre surgical slicings, erotic body penetration, superfluous internal organ removal — and the seaside, small-hamlet, sound-stage setting (it was shot in Athens), and you’re left with a presentation that could have been staged at Manhattan’s Cherry Lane theatre or…whatever, on Philco Playhouse back in the early to mid ’50s.

“Guy gets on the MTA in LA…dies. Think anybody’ll notice?”

Tom Cruise‘s “hello, I’m looking for my wife” scene in Jerry Maguire still ranks first, but Vincent’s final line in Collateral [4:15 to 4:40] is first runner-up. In a way it’s almost more moving than the Maguire scene because you’re not expecting cynical, hard-case Vincent to emotionally reveal himself.

I’m planning to finally watch Matt Walsh‘s What Is A Woman? doc, which has been streaming since June 1st. I happen to feel more in synch with Walsh’s views about gender ideology and slightly less in favor of gender positivism, which has been flirting with gender wacko-ism. I wouldn’t characterize my views as dismissive or transphobic — I’m more of a trans-questioning type of guy.

I’m completely down with Bill Maher’s “Along For The Pride” rant that he delivered two weeks ago. I think that Charles Durning‘s farm dad in Tootsie (“Bulls are bulls and roosters don’t try to lay eggs”) was a sensible-sounding guy. I think that the transgender swimmer Lia Thomas competing against natural-born women is tremendously unfair. And I don’t see what’s so awful about Florida’s Parental Rights in Education Act (aka “Don’t Say Gay”), which prohibits classroom instruction on sexual orientation or gender identity from kindergarten to third grade….what’s wrong with postponing this shit until kids get a little older?

The rhetorical thrust of Walsh’s doc is obviously topical and seemingly sensible, and yet most the critics are ignoring it. That seems unfair and even punitive. I’m still succumbing to jetlag naps (I won’t be out of the woods for another two or three days), but I’ll give it a shot this afternoon.

HE correspondent “Eddie Ginley” recently saw Bong Joon-ho‘s Barking Dogs Never Bite (’00), and was struck by the “guy living in a hidden basement area without anyone noticing” subplot that was re-used in Parasite (’19). Ginley says he “can’t believe no one has ever mentioned this.”

But all filmmakers recycle ideas from time to time, and sometimes remake whole movies only a few years later. Michael Mann‘s L.A. Takedown was recycled as Heat six years later. Sometimes ideas germinate for years. The “stabbing of Louis Bernard” scene in The Man Who Knew Too Much (’55) was first dreamt up by Alfred Hitchcock in 1938.

Seven or eight years ago the late James Horner recalled his frustrating attempts at composing the score for Terrence Malick The New World (’05). Writing the score wasn’t the problem, he said, but Malick’s salad-toss approach to editing. We’ve all read and heard eccentric Terry stories over the years, but if you’re wondering why Malick’s latest, The Way of the Wind, is still being edited two and two-thirds years after completing principal photography, Horner explains it all.

“Way of the Wayward,” posted on 3.30.22: “Almost three years after starting principal photography in June 2019, Terrence Malick‘s The Way of the Wind is still shrouded in secrecy with no whispers, much less expectations, about any festival bookings this year.

“Definitely not Cannes, of course, and with the warm weather fast approaching you’d think the Venice/Telluride crowd would be hearing about possibly getting a peek at Malick’s film down the road. But no — ‘big circle of silence.’

“Malick tends to spend about two years in post-production on his films. Presuming that The Way of the Wind wrapped sometime in the early fall of ’19, the two years of post-production would have been completed last September or October, or five or six months ago.”

“Try It On For Size,” posted on 11.20.20: “In June 2019 Terrence Malick began shooting The Last Planet, which is some kind of Jesus movie. The cast includes Géza Rohrig as Christ, Matthias Schoenaerts as Saint Peter, and Mark Rylance as four versions of Satan. It was announced today that the title has been changed to The Way of the Wind.

Having missed the Sundance ’15 debut of Robert Egger‘s The Witch, I didn’t see it until a year later. Boy, was I won over! For me, the film’s critical praise and box-office success ($40 million gross vs. $4 million budget) crystalized my understanding that elevated horror had become a thing — a respectable sub-genre as well as an assurance that not all horror films needed to be aimed at primitives.

A year earlier Jennifer Kent‘s The Babadook had defined the 21st Century template; in 2018 Kent’s The Nightingale and Ari Aster‘s Hereditary fortified things, followed in 2019 by Aster’s Midsommar.

I have this idea that elevated horror was launched by the German expressionists (Robert Wiene‘s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, F. W. Murnau‘s Nosferatu) in the early 20s. Was Val Lewton‘s Cat People the first American-made flick to suggest creeps rather than show them? The prize for the best E.H. flick of the ’60s was split between Jack Clayton‘s The Innocents (’61) and Robert Wise‘s The Haunting (’63). The most explosively popular E.H. of all time, of course, was William Friedkin‘s The Exorcist (’73).

Anyway, last night I re-watched The Witch, and this time with subtitles. From my original review: “I’m very much looking forward to the subtitle option when the Bluray comes out. Ralph Ineson, blessed with one of those magnificent deep voices with a timbre that can peel wallpaper, was the only one I fully understood on a line-for-line basis. To my ears everyone else spoke 17th-Century dithah-moundah-maaaysee-whatsah.”

Now that I’ve “read” Eggers’ script, so to speak, my respect for The Witch‘s period-authentic language is greater.

More review excerpts: “This little creeper (which was projected last night at a 1.66:1 aspect ratio!) is set on an isolated farm in 17th Century New England, when the lore of witches and sorcery was at an all-time high. I was seriously impressed by the historical authenticity and the complete submission to the superstitious mythology of evil in the early 1600s and the panicky mindset of those God-fearing Puritans who completely bought the notion that demonic evil was absolutely manifest and waiting in the thicket.