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“Carol” Afterglow

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I took this video inside the Cannes press conference salon on 5.17.15. Call it a period of relative calm before the storm. The #MeToo movement would launch two years and five months later, and over the following year the first stirrings of the woke Robespierre plague began to be felt. Peak terror was felt during ’19,’20 and ’21. All in all the plague has been with us for four and a half years now, going on five. It’s just about run its course, but the real death throes won’t be felt until the November ’22 midterms.

From “The Moment I Realized Carol Was Toast With Older Viewers (i.e., Academy Voters)“, posted on 2.2016: Todd Haynes‘ Carol may have been, for me, the most emotionally affecting relationship film of 2015. I’m not going to rehash all the praise-worthy elements (Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara‘s fully felt performances, Ed Lachman‘s 16mm cinematography, the early ’50s vibe of repression and propriety). It so perfectly captured, for me, what it feels like to be in love (“I know how it feels to have wings on your heels”). I particularly remember what a high it was to see it in Cannes…everyone was levitating, it seemed.

“Then I saw it again six months later — in late October, or a month before it opened commercially on 11.20 — at the Middleburg Film Festival. Middleburg is a more conservative town than Los Angeles, of course, but it’s similar to the Academy in that it’s full of wealthy over-50 white people. And the instant Carol finished playing in the main conference room of Middleburg’s Salamander Resort and the lights came up, you could feel the vibe. They ‘liked’ and respected it, but they didn’t love it. The atmosphere was approving and appreciative, but a bit cool. And I said to myself, ‘Okay, that’s it…not even Christine Vachon dreamed that Carol could win Best Picture Oscar but after Cannes I thought it would probably be Best Picture-nominated because it’s so affecting and classy and poised….now I don’t think that’ll happen.’

“It went on to win big with critics and industry groups, but older whites never embraced it. They somehow didn’t see themselves in it.”

The Big Sleep

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A hideous creep journalist-critic, Charles Bramesco, posted this photo on Twitter, but what the hell. I don’t look like I’m napping in my seat — I look like I’ve just succumbed to a massive heart attack. But it’s just my natural, blessed ability to nap anywhere at any time. I close my eyes and I’m gone. In this instance I was merely escaping from the usual opening-night, pre-screening ceremonies.

Still A Matter of Dispute

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There’s a certain middle-aged Frenchman’s way of pronouncing “Anne” — it sounds a bit subdued and abbreviated with a slightly prolonged “nnn” sound. This is how you need to pronounce “Cannes.” Note to Forrest Whitaker: the “s” is silent.

Low-Altitude Fighter Jets Whooshing Over Croisette

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…to heighten the excitement factor for Top Gun: Maverick, which is having its big-ass, Grand Lumiere Cannes premiere as we speak…formally dressed Tom Cruise, Jennifer Connelly As it turned out Miles “don’t be a pervert, man” Teller was in Canners, but not during the red-carpet photo call.

“Devils” Nostalgia

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It’s taken me nine and 1/2 years to finally get around to buying Richard Crouse‘s “Raising Hell: Ken Russell and the Unmaking of The Devils,” which was published on 1.1.12. It’s now in my Kindle archive. I’ve seen this 1971 film six or seven times. I own a British DVD of the restored 117-minute version, but where’s the Bluray version? Why hasn’t Criterion released one?

From Josh Stillman’s 10.1.12 EW review: “The story of 1971’s The Devils‘ is an unpleasant one. Based on Aldous Huxley’s book The Devils of Loudun’ and a play by John Whiting, the film details an episode of alleged demonic possessions and exorcisms — and the innocent priest who was executed for heresy — in 17th-century France. And that’s just the plot line.

“The real story of The Devils took place behind the camera, in the movie’s production process and its reception among censors, critics, and audiences. The intensity of the shoot cost director Ken Russell his marriage and tested the nerves of its stars, British screen legends Oliver Reed and Vanessa Redgrave.

“Later, after facing numerous cuts from the British Board of Film Censors for material deemed inappropriate (or, according to the Catholic Church, blasphemous), The Devils received an abysmal response from critics, was banned in several countries, and basically vanished for three decades.

“In recent years, though, the movie’s seen a bit of a resurgence. Fan sites are popping up and bootleg copies with fewer cuts have surfaced (Russell lamented that a fully uncensored version simply doesn’t exist); critics, for their part, have begun to see the film in a different light, hailing it as a provocative masterpiece in league with A Clockwork Orange.”

Modest Puzzlement

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On 5.16 I noted with some alarm that Austin Butler is doing his own singing in Baz Luhrmann‘s Elvis. I based this reaction on the posting of a musical preview of Butler singing “If I Can Dream”, which had been posted that same day.

“Butler doesn’t sound like the Real McCoy,” I wrote. “Lacking that unique vocal signature (smooth tones, purry phrasing, Memphis inflections), Butler is just another Elvis imitator.”

A journalist friendo has written to explain that “Butler’s singing is only for the younger Elvis. Baz explained all that at the CinemaCon presentation with Butler on stage and it is evident in the film.”

HE reply: “If you say so, okay. But of course, the younger Elvis (mid ‘50s) sounded like Elvis of the ‘60s and ‘70s, being the same person with the same larynx and vocal chords and whatnot. So it’s mystifying.”

Turn Down Day

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Except for a Romy Schneider doc early this evening, HE is seeing almost nothing today. Entirely due to the horrors of the system, which is responding better now but was partly impossible on Monday and Tuesday and completely uncooperative early this morning.

But Thursday will be a serious day — Kyrill Serebrennikov‘s Zhena Chaikovskogo at 8:30 am, James Gray‘s Armageddon Time at 6:30 pm, and Jerzy Skolimowski‘s EO at 10:15 pm.

As I’m not a member of the infamous “”James Gray cabal” and because I’ve spoken to a friend who caught a research screening of Armageddon Time, I’m considering a re-think by attending Alexandre Moix‘s Patrick Dewaere, Mon Heros at 7:15 pm.

Fantastic!

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12:15 pm update: The system has suddenly begun functioning. Over the last hour or so I’ve able to fill my Saturday and Sunday calendars for the most part. The trick seems to be to avoid trying to access the system in the early morning.

Trouble In Mind, Ethan Coen‘s doc about Jerry Lee Lewis, is unavailable. Under the old system this wouldn’t have happened.

Earlier: This is why journalists travel thousands of miles to Cannes…so we can get shut down by moronic or overwhelmed software coding when we try to log in for updates at 7:10 am…a sense of humor is necessary in such situations. [Posted on Wednesday, 5.18 at 7:35 am.]

Zombie Farce Is A Tough Sit

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Michael Hazanavicius’ Final Cut (aka Coupez! aka Z) is a kind of Noises Off -like farce blended with zombie hellzapoppin’ blended with Tom DeCillo’s Living in Oblivion (‘95). Allegedly a nearly line-by-line remake of Shin’ichirō Ueda’s zom-com One Cut of the Dead (‘17), I found it thin, exhausting, odious and unfunny. And a tiny bit sad. I didn’t hate it, but my basic attitude was a combination of “who cares?” and “lemme outta here.”

And that’s all I have to say for now as it’s midnight and I’m bushed.

https://vimeo.com/710957097

Shattering, Shuddering, Sex-Positive Orgasms

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Yesterday an official trailer surfaced for Sophie Hyde‘s Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, a Searchlight/Hulu release costarring Emma Thompson, Daryl McCormack and Isabella Laughland. The three-hander begins streaming on Hulu on 6.17.

“Nine Thoughts About Leo Grande and Naked Emma,” posted on 1.26.22:

Thought #1: Last night Hollywood Elsewhere sat through Sophie Hyde‘s Good Luck To You, Leo Grande, and I was more or less okay with it, minor issues aside. It’s a reasonably engaging two-hander about a 55-year-old woman (Emma Thompson‘s “Nancy Stokes”, who doesn’t look 50ish as much as her actual age, which is 62) and a handsome young sex worker (Daryl McCormack‘s Leo Grande”). The widowed Nancy has led a rather sex-less and certainly orgasm-free life, and she’s hired Leo in order to sample the real thing.

The film (97 minutes) is basically three sexual and very personal encounters in a hotel room, and one in a hotel bar. (Or something like that.)

It’s an intimate, occasionally amusing, open-hearted exploration of an older woman’s sexuality and what a transformational thing good sex can be (nothing wrong with that!), along with the gradually building rapport between Nancy and Leo. It’s smoothly and nimbly performed, especially by Thompson.

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