Everything Amanda Knox has been saying about Stillwater is sensible and fair.

In admittedly using Knox’s conviction, imprisonment and acquittal on a murder charge in Italy as a jumping off point for an otherwise fictional story, director and co-writer Tom McCarthy has somewhat callously dredged up a lot of bad business and has re-implanted the idea that there’s something possibly sketchy and wanton about Knox herself. And Knox resents this. Who wouldn’t in her position? I can’t imagine anyone telling Knox that her complaints are unwarranted.

It’s odd, however, that in an 8.4 interview with Variety‘s Chris Willman Knox states that (a) she hasn’t seen Stillwater yet (it opened last Thursday night) and yet (b) she would “absolutely go see it, especially if they invited me…that would be nice.”

Knox tells Willman she’s been informed how the story unfolds (“I did some invest-imigating”), but if you were Knox and giving interviews to everyone about a completely valid complaint about a just-opened film, wouldn’t you take the time to pop into a megaplex and see the damn thing already? Doesn’t that make basic sense?

For one thing it’s conceivable that Abigail Breslin‘s performance as the vaguely-Knox-resembling Allison Baker might radiate certain emotional currents that Knox might be receptive to and which might influence her general thinking…no? Experiencing a film is essential.

Where exactly was the upside in Knox not slipping into a showing last weekend? I really don’t get this part.

In mentioning the hypothetical idea of Focus Features inviting her to see the film, Knox seems to imply that this is her due. (“Since we’re stirring your life up and sending you back into a decade-old nightmare, it’s the least we can do.”) She also seems to be suggesting that personally paying to see the film would be adding insult to injury.

I wouldn’t futz around with this stuff if I were Knox. I would have bought a ticket to one of the very first commercial showings last Thursday night — no ifs, ands or buts. If you have a beef with a movie, you have to watch it.

The following is the most plainly worded, pared-to-the-bone, no-bullshit comment in yesterday’s “Sopranos Finale Was Cut Wrong” thread:

“Outside of the influence of surrealism and whatnot, smart, strategic, well-ordered cinema RARELY fucks with people’s heads like the final Sopranos scene did. I explained why many were confused or uncertain about what had happened. It was because of the EDITING — David Chase’s decision to not play by basic editing rules at the very end,

“Except for the various dream sequences, The Sopranos was never some trippy cowabunga metaphysical space cadet David Lynch thing that dropped a tab of mescaline as it went off into the wild blue yonder. It followed the rules of clean, no-bullshit storytelling. It didn’t play bait-and-switch fakeout games. It experienced off passages like any longform, but it generally knew what audience expectations were and more or less MET them, episode after episode, season after season.”

Remember what supermodels used to look like ten, twenty, thirty years ago? We all understood the genetic, glowing signals. Rail-thin, sleek, elegant, striking, beautiful, wow. Well, according to the September issue of Vogue, times have changed. Today’s supermodels exemplify the beauty of great genes but also (and more importantly) diversity, varying sizes, wokeness, women supporting women, equality, no one being marginalized, etc.

And just to drive the point home, the eight Vogue models heralded in the new issue — Kaia Gerber (spawn of Cindy Crawford), Anok Yai, Precious Lee, Bella Hadid, Sherry Shi, Ariel Nicholson, Yumi Nu and Lola Leon (daughter of Madonna and Carlos Leon) — all have their hair in a tight bun or pulled into a ponytail. We get it..

The fashion industry has never been about what straight guys think, of course, but what this photo basically confirms is that the age-old pleasure of guys gazing at supermodels is…well, perhaps not “over” but more of a mixed-bag activity. Because two or three of these women, no offense, are not classic head-turners.

The devastatingly beautiful Yai fits the classic mold, of course; ditto Gerber, Hadid, Leon and Li. The alabaster-skinned, ginger-haired Nicholson…okay, fine. The plus-sizers represent a different aesthetic.

Friendo: “This is just virtue-signaling crap. Instagram and Tik Tok still show what kinds of women draw eyeballs. Honestly, has the world ever beheld a more censorious, strident, militant, punishing generation? It’s like in Orwell where things mean the opposite — Ministry of Love, Ministry of Truth, etc. The idea that they love everyone and marginalize no one and everyone is as accepted as they are is, at the very least, PARTIAL BULLSHIT. You agree with them or you’re destroyed. Accept the new aesthetic or face banishment.”

From left: Kaia Gerber (daughter of Cindy Crawford) wears Tom Ford. Anok Yai wears Ralph Lauren Collection. Precious Lee wears Carolina Herrera. Bella Hadid wears Christopher John Rogers. Sherry Shi wears Proenza Schouler. Ariel Nicholson wears Christopher John Rogers. Yumi Nu wears Mara Hoffman. Lola Leon (daughter of Madonna and Carlos Leon) wears Michael Kors Collection. Hair, Lucas Wilson; makeup, Jen Myles. Fashion Editors: Tonne Goodman and Gabriella Karefa-Johnson.Photographed by Ethan James Green, Vogue, September 2021.

It was obvious to anyone with half a brain that Tony Soprano was “hit” at the very end of “Made in America,” the 87th and final episode of The Sopranos. It aired on 6.19.07. or just a bit more than 14 years ago. His assassin was the Italian-looking, beady-eyed guy in the gray “Members Only” jacket who eyeballed Tony and his family as he sat at the counter, and then went into the bathroom, etc.

Producer-creator David Chase never showed this creep coming out of the bathroom and firing a bullet into Tony’s head, but that’s certainly what happened. I understand, however, why some viewers were left uncertain or confused. That was because Chase’s direction and editing were misleading.

If you know the scene (or if you look at it again), you’ll notice that Tony frequently glances here and there and never seems to miss a trick. When Carmela strolls into restaurant he spots her right away; same thing when A.J. and the “Members Only” guy walk in at the same time. When “Members Only” gets up and walks into the bathroom, Tony gives him a quick look. So why wouldn’t he give “Members Only” another glance when he comes out of the bathroom with his pistol drawn?

Because, you could answer, Tony is eyeballing Meadow, the world’s worst parallel parker, as she finally comes through the front door.

Key problem: Three or four times we’re shown POV shots from Tony’s perspective, but when the silent blackout happens we’re not looking at Meadow from his table seat. Instead we’re a shown a slightly off-to-the-right close-up of Tony with the camera positioned two or three feet away but looking straight at him, more or less.

We see him look up, and then the blackout.

Why didn’t Chase put us inside Tony’s head for the final big moment? The perfect shot would have been a Tony-POV shot of Meadow striding through the main door and then the final slam-cut. Obviously. Chase got it wrong.

One thing you’ll never, ever see in an action film is a supporting player (bad or neutral guy) who stands up and is ready to fight or shoot it out with a lead guy, and then — very sensibly! — changes his mind when he realizes that beating or out-drawing the lead guy isn’t in the cards. It happened 52 years ago in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, but it hasn’t happened since.

If I’m wrong please remind me of another scene that works like this (i.e., “Uhhm, wait, hold on…I can’t win this one.”).

The card player’s name was Donnelly Rhodes, and he died three and a half years ago. He was 40 or so when he shot this scene with Robert Redford, Paul Newman and director George Roy Hill.

Bloomberg’s Felix Gillette has seen Alan Taylor and David Chase‘s The Many Saints of Newark (Warner Bros./HBO Max, 10.1) and posted…well, not a “review” but a mildly upbeat assessment. The headline says “HBO Finally Nails a Spinoff With Chase Prequel.” And it more or less explains that Michael Gandolfini, who plays the teenaged Tony Soprano, doesn’t show up until the film’s second half. (Part One is set in Newark in ’67; Part Two, set in ’71 or thereabouts, is set in the Jersey suburbs.)

Excerpt: “Over two action-packed hours, Chase and co-writer Lawrence Konner sketch out much of the Soprano family roots in America.” Describing the film as “action-packed” isn’t necessarily high praise — it just means it’s not a Peter Greenaway film.

Three and a half years ago there was no pandemic (what a time it was!), and one of the things that got people going was a fierce conviction among #MeTooers that there could be no grading or distinctions among forms of unwelcome sexual attention. Anyone who attempted to say “this is worse than that” got bitchslapped or even beaten. Damon found that out.

A friend says this 14 year-old video clip isn’t funny any more because it’s racist. Well, it may be racist in the minds of certain woke watchdogs (Variety‘s Steven Gaydos, critics Glenn Kenny and Bob Strauss), but it’s still funny for the rest of us. We all know that the term “Islamic Jihad” basically means “repent or die or better yet bend over to we can cut your head off”, and that this kind of absolutist thinking comes from a cliche that we’ve all heard about conservative Middle-Eastern types being hot-headed or even fanatical when their blood is up.

This Oscar-argument clip is funny because (a) their behavior conforms to the cliche or stereotype, and (b) they’re arguing about performances given by Kate Winslet and Penelope Cruz.

…that Andrew Dominik‘s Blonde might be some kind of sexually shocking envelope-pusher…taken together, an alleged rape plus a moment of bloody cunnilingus sounds roughly equivalent to the “go get the butter” scene from Last Tango in Paris…something that audiences might respond to with a gasp and a “holy shit.”

When Netflix bumped Blonde into ’22 the assumption in this corner was “oh, okay, sounds like a bust of some kind.” Now it sounds like bravery and a different equation. Do I know that “Ana de Armas Updates” is telling the truth? No, I don’t. But at the very least I’m intrigued.

Update: Apologies for missing the fact that World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy broke the gist of this on 8.1.