I don’t care what these Cinemacon guys are saying — Robert Eggers‘ The Northman (out in the spring of ’22) is a 10th Century Viking revenge saga, and is sure to be intense in the usual Eggers way. But as far as I can discern it’s not some bloody-ass, tons-of-blood, piles-of-bodies Braveheart deal. It’s about a Nordic prince looking to avenge his father’s death, yes, okay, but calm down, will ya?
Last night or early today critic Guy Lodge posted a dry little remark on Twitter, which is that he’s “scared to have an opinion on Ted Lasso so safest just to keep not watching it.”
What caught my attention had nothing to do with Ted Lasso but what Lodge was unintentionally alluding to. By casually confessing in a subdued offhand way that he was scared to post a potentially unpopular opinion, Lodge was acknowledging in a roundabout fashion that “scared” is a slight thing.
He wasn’t saying that he’s scared of the woke-terror mob or that this is something he contends with from time to time, but that it might be, heh-heh.
So yes, Guy was “joking”, but there’s nothing more revealing about human nature than a joke.
Jokes are never just about “hah-hah” — deep down they’re always about fear, poking exposed nerves, humiliation and rage. They’re about “uh-oh” or “I actually despise myself at times” or “this is rather terrifying” or “dear God, save me from the firing squad.”
Being a serious critic and top-tier Variety stringer, Lodge would never admit that there are times when he’s afraid to post a dicey or nervy opinion. “Scared” is not a word that critics are allowed to have in their vocabulary or their psyche. But the fact that Lodge faintly chuckled about it tells you everything.
Critics are all about craft and personal cred — their writing skills, seasoned insights, industry knowledge and straight-from-the-shoulder judgments.
It follows that no serious critic will ever admit to being afraid to convey the “wrong” viewpoint, or to vaguely allude to something that they shouldn’t vaguely allude to. At the same time they all know what not to say, and they’re very, very careful not to trip any wires or step on any land mines.
The bottom line is that they’re all vaguely terrified these days of the woke comintern. Just look at what happened to poor Dennis Harvey — say the wrong thing or say it the wrong way, and your employer might throw you under the bus in order to curry favor with this or that big-name actress who was unhappy with a sentence or two.
Critics aren’t stupid. Every time they write a review it’s like walking on a tightwire and knowing full well that all it takes is one wrong phrase or one inelegant clause or parenthetical and they’ll soon be dodging sniper fire and even possibly be out of a job.
The promotional campaign for FX’s forthcoming Impeachment: American Crime Story (9.7, ten episodes), which focuses on the Bill Clinton-Monica Lewinsky scandal and is co-produced by Lewinsky, is heating up.
I’ve tapped out two or three riffs on the series. All that’s left is to watch it and decide what’s what.
There’s never been much doubt about Clinton’s in-office behavior and character in the ’80s and ’90s. In his hormonal heyday he was a total hound. And I think we all understand that the series will almost certainly get out the wooden paddle and leave serious welts. Apart from telling a good story and possibly delivering strong performances, the basic idea or goal appears to be punitive.
If on the other hand the series appears to be dealing straight cards without an agenda, I’ll be among the first to stand up and say that.
Does Clinton deserve to be slapped around by a docudrama that seems to have been informed by a prosecutorial #MeToo perspective? Well, he certainly made his own bed during his Arkansas governorship (’79 to ’81, ’83 to ’92) and his two terms as U.S. President (’93 to ’01), and now this particular chicken (based on Jeffrey Toobin’s “A Vast Conspiracy: The Real Sex Scandal That Nearly Brought Down a President“) has come home to roost.
A fair portrayal of this sordid saga would certainly own up to the fact that it usually takes two to tango in these situations, but I suspect (and please correct me if I’m wrong) that the series is going to contend that it takes one — a powerful manipulator with the ability to persuade less powerful persons to give him what he wants.
I’ve suspected from the get-go that the film is going to portray Lewinsky as a gullible and vulnerable innocent who was emotionally exploited and manipulated in this situation, when in fact she seems to have gone for it big-time because she knew (or certainly had reason to presume) she would get something out of the relationship.
In March 2019 Lewinsky wrote in Vanity Fair that she considered the Clinton affair to have been “a gross abuse of power”, adding that Clinton “was my boss…he was the most powerful man on the planet”.
I’m peering into a crystal ball and flash-forwarding to a theatrical showing of Steven Spielberg‘s The Fablemans, which began shooting last month.
I’m sitting in my favorite front-row seat and watching a solo scene with Gabriel LaBelle, whose “Sammy” character is based on the mid-teenaged Spielberg, a fledgling, naturally gifted filmmaker living with his family in early ’60s Arizona.
As Sammy enters his bedroom we see hazy, grayish milky streams of Arizona sunlight pouring through the partially curtained windows. And I’m thinking, “Wait a minute, this seems familiar.”
I can’t put my finger on it but I’ve seen several films with interior scenes that resemble this one.
I know that as a devoted filmgoer my life would seem…well, not “impossibly empty” but certainly diminished without grayish, alien-spaceship milky sunlight streaming through windows in the films that I see. I’ve adored this kind of cinematography for so many years. I loved it in Lincoln and I’ll love it next year when The Fablemans opens.
Thank God for small favors — at least The Fablemans isn’t being shot by Bradford Young.
Yesterday World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy reported that Joe Wright‘s Cyrano (UA Releasing, 12.25), an adaptation of Erica Schmidt’s Goodspeed Opera House slash Terris Theatre production in 2018, will be at Telluride next week.
As he did onstage, the great Peter Dinklage will play the lead, except in this version (as in the 2018 musical play) Cyrano’s romantic handicap is not a big nose but dwarfism.
The musically-augmented feature costars Haley Bennett, Ben Mendelsohn, Brian Tyree Henry and Kelvin Harrison Jr.
I have no dog in this. I’m just repeating what J.R. seems to believe and going “okay, fine, whatever.” JR says it’s been “half-assedly” confirmed by a person associated with the film, so I guess what I’m doing is half-assedly passing along the news. I’ve seen a text message from this source that agrees with and/or doesn’t deny the news.
Is there anyone out there who doesn’t feel Charles-and-Diana’ed out? Season #4 of The Crown (which I found rather good) has taken us through the whole, drawn-out decline of their relationship saga, chapter and verse. And now we have to endure Jackie, Part 2 — a feature-length study of Too-Short Diana’s emotional and psychological strain during a royal weekend in the country in which the decision to divorce is finalized. I don’t feel the fascination.
We all understand that John Derek‘s Tarzan the Ape-Man (’81) is one of the worst major-studio films ever released. But I’ve never described the rollicking experience of watching it in the MGM/UA screening room at 729 Seventh Avenue, sometime in late July of that year.
We’d all read or heard about MGM being reluctant or at the very least antsy about releasing Derek’s film, so no one was expecting anything great. (Filming in Sri Lanka had happened only five months earlier.) We were certainly braced for some Bo Derek nudity and Miles O’Keeffe beefcake and a certain amount of amusement.
Then it started and it wasn’t too bad — big-game hunter Richard Harris determined to shoot the white ape, doing his elocutionary blowhard thing, barking at Derek, etc. Then buffed-up O’Keeffe appeared and it was “oh, God, here we go.” Then came the lion on the beach scene.
The film was focusing on something gentle and disarming — probably Bo and Miles relating to each other in some playful way — when all of a sudden Derek and his editor, Jimmy Ling, hit us with a sudden smash cut of a big male lion strolling on a beach, and I mean not prey-stalking in the slightest. It was as if the lion was out for a Sunday stroll and enjoying the sunshine and warm air, and was incidentally moving in the general direction of the camera.
Derek and Ling wanted us to jump in our seats and go “oh my God, here comes a scary lion!” But the shot had the opposite effect — the critic-journos I saw it with immediately whooped and chuckled because the shot wasn’t set up. (Somebody joked “Whoa!” or something in that vein.) Because lions who intend to attack always crouch down as they slowly approach, fixing gaze on the prey.
The proper strategy would have been to show us the lion trudging through the jungle and looking for something to eat. And then he approaches the beach and steps onto the smooth sand and stops and eyeballs Derek and O’Keeffe 40 or 50 yards away. Cut to a close-up of his predator eyes, and then an MCU of the lion crouching down and beginning to stalk them. That’s how lions do it. But Derek and Ling decided against that.
Jimmy Fallon‘s “Dennis Hope” in Cameron Crowe‘s Almost Famous: “If you think Mick Jagger will still be out there trying to be a rock star at age fifty, then you are sadly, sadly mistaken.”
MOJO editor John Mulvey: “One of the things I’ve been thinking about this evening is how the Rolling Stones have in some ways redefined what it means to grow older, for maybe 50 years now.
“And as they’ve been at the forefront of how we understand what older people can or should do, they’ve often appeared disdainful of the process of ageing; contemptuous even. Charlie less obviously so than Jagger, of course, but he was still a critical part of that process.
“Not that they appeared improbably youthful, but that they reconfigured a young person’s game as a lifelong pursuit, and made an infinite career seem plausible. Their defiant indestructibility could sometimes seem a bit ridiculous, but was always utterly inspiring.
“That’s gone now, with [Charlie’s death]. I’m wary of pronouncing ends of eras, or similar, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the Stones kept going anyway. But this does feel like a line tentatively being drawn. Very sad, in lots of ways.”
46 and 1/3 years ago, a hurried (some would say panicky) evacuation of Saigon, called Operation Frequent Wind, was underway. During the last days of the Vietnam War, OFW was the final phase in the evacuation of American civilians and at-risk Vietnamese before the takeover of the city by the North Vietnamese People’s Army of Vietnam (PAVN).
OFW was carried out on the 29th and 30th of April 1975. More than 7,000 people were evacuated by helicopter from various points in Saigon.
Since the fall of Kabul on 8.15.21, more than 70,700 people have been evacuated from Afghanistan as of Tuesday evening. Nearly 6,000 American troops are protecting the international airport in Kabul, the capital. And additional U.S. flights are leaving every 45 minutes.
7000 in ’75; 10 times that amount evacuated out of Kabul.
From an 8.24.21 N.Y. Times report, filed by Laura Jakes: “The Biden administration has provided a stream of updates about its airlift of Americans, Afghans and others since Aug. 14, when the Taliban closed in on Kabul. Yet U.S. officials are reluctant to offer an estimate of the one number that matters most: How many people ultimately need to be rescued.
“U.S. officials believe that thousands of Americans remain in Afghanistan, including some far beyond Kabul, without a safe or fast way to get to the airport. Tens of thousands of Afghans who worked for the U.S. government over the last 20 years, and are eligible for special visas, are desperate to leave.
“Refugee and resettlement experts estimate that at least 300,000 Afghans are in imminent danger of being targeted by the Taliban for associating with Americans and U.S. efforts to stabilize Afghanistan.”
After George Hickenlooper and Fax Bahr‘s Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse, the best doc about the making of a Hollywood film that became a huge headache for all concerned is Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley’s Island of Dr. Moreau. My recent exposure to Val led me back to David Gregory’s 2014 film. All you can think of while watching it is the inexplicably horrible movie-star behavior of Marlon Brando and Val Kilmer. I did a search for my review, and realized I never posted one…odd. I want to watch it again.
