Until five minutes ago I’d never seen this mildly risque Australian underwear ad, which first aired in ’94. Could/would never be imagined, much less produced, in today’s realm. Nervy, catchy, good-humored.

There was a respected European-produced TV commercial for men’s underwear (made with fabric that’s allegedly great to touch) but I can’t find it online. The hook was that the fabric was so pleasurable to touch that it makes straight guys behave in a kind of “gay” way, so to speak. Funny bit.

Universal Pictures has announced that at least one about-to-open film will be made available on same day as the global theatrical release date, and that three recently released films will also be available to stream.

Excerpt from release: “Beginning with DreamWorks Animation’s Trolls World Tour (opening 4.10 in the U.S.) the company will also make movies that are currently in theatrical release available on-demand starting as early as Friday, March 20. Titles from Universal and its specialty label Focus Features, including The Hunt, The Invisible Man and Emma, will be available on a wide variety of the most popular on-demand services for a 48-hour rental period at a suggested retail price of $19.99 in the U.S. and the price equivalent in international markets.”

Other distributors are sure to follow, right?

Question #1: Once the coronavirus panic has passed and things begin to stabilize, will Universal and other distribs pull back on this streaming strategy or will they keep it in place? Question #2: How would you feel about this tectonic shift if you worked for the exhibition industry?

Roger Friedman’s Showbiz411 column:

The man is an adult who believes in caution, transparency and safe measures. Hats off, be well, don’t panic.

Did this universally recognized fact stop Nick “Action Man” Clement from watching it with great enthusiasm and then discussing the merits of this Jeannot Szwarc-directed calamity with his Facebook bros? No, it didn’t.

What motivates people to say nice things about incontestably bad films? Where is their self-respect?

Didn’t we just do the whole Wayne Williams thing with season #2 of Mindhunter?

It’s a fact that Williams (now 61) is (a) serving life imprisonment for the 1981 killings of two adult men in Atlanta, and (b) is believed by police to be responsible for at least 23 of the 30 Atlanta murders of 1979–1981, aka the Atlanta Child Murders. Although Williams was never tried for killing kids and has long maintained his innocence, there have been no similar killings of young black men since he came under suspicion in May 1981.

And yet Atlanta’s Missing and Murdered: The Lost Children, a forthcoming HB0 documentary, seems to suggest that because Williams was never charged, much less convicted, for any of the 23 for lack of hard evidence, that his guilt is an open question and that others might have been responsible. Yeah, maybe, but how come the child murders stopped after May ’81?

Documentary quotes: (1) “‘We found the killer, and that’s it’, but that really wasn’t it“; (2) “People saying this has to be the Klan or some crazy cop, but nobody really knew anything”; (3) “They didn’t follow those leads…[instead] they chose one [suspect]”; (4) “Elected officials did not want this [murder investigation] to go on” and so they decided to pin the killings on Williams and be done with it.

Between my frequent hand and face washings, surgical gloves, N95 face masks, baby wipe packets, brawny constitution and a general uptick in antiseptic cleaning maintenance all around, I’m not concerned about flying back to Los Angeles tomorrow evening. Well, somewhat concerned but not, you know, “worried”.

What kind of blighted environment awaits? What a difference since I left a week ago. No movies, no restaurants except for take-out, no hanging in Starbucks, no nothing except for hiking and beach-sitting. Plus lines outside of gun stores and the possibility of martial law. Eventually we’ll be northern Italy, partly if not largely because of under-40s, operating under an impression that they’re bulletproof, ignoring the whole thing and party-ing like there’s no tomorrow.

INT. Steven Spielberg‘s post-production office on West Side Story. Spielberg is at his desk, reading a hardbound edition of Dostoyevski’s “The Brothers Karamazov.” A rap-rap on the door. Spielberg looks up — it’s his longtime visual collaborator and West Side Story dp Janusz Kaminski.

Kaminski: Steven?
Spielberg: Janoo!
Kaminski: You good? The assembly looks great!
Spielberg: (gestures) Siddown.
Kaminski: Somethin’ up?
Spielberg: (exhales) I’ve changed my mind about West Side Story looking like a standard Kaminski…desaturated milky colors, shafts of light through windows, all that crap.
Kaminski: No!
Spielberg: Sorry, bruh, but not this time. I want vivid, real-world, life-like colors. I want the dance scene where Tony and Maria meet to have the same red colors that Robert Wise and Daniel Fapp went with.

Kaminski: But we almost always shoot with my faded palette! You agreed to stick with it.
Spielberg: I’ve changed my mind.
Kaminski: But we released an image last summer that had my grayish-beige scheme! You approved it!
Spielberg: It was just a photo. It’s not binding.
Kaminski: Wow.
Spielberg: I’m the director, Janoo.
Kaminski: I feel betrayed.
Spielberg: Adapt or die.
Kaminski: What about the Vanity Fair piece with the new photos? They’re grayish milky. I approved them.
Spielberg: I scrapped them. The Vanity Fair photos reflect the new approach.
Kaminski: Have you at least told Anthony Breznican about this?
Spielberg: I’m not making a big deal about it. Breznican doesn’t write for American Cinematographer. He probably won’t even notice the difference.

I remembered earlier today that there was only one Monkees song that I half-liked — “Mary Mary,” which was written by Michael Nesmith. The lyrics are banal (obviously) and Micky Dolenz‘s voice could make anything sound insipid, but I love the instrumental track, which was performed by the legendary Wrecking Crew (James Burton, Glen Campbell, Al Casey, Hal Blaine, Jim Gordon, Michael Deasy, Larry Knechtel.).

The song was recorded on 7.25.66 at Western Recorders in Hollywood, California. The cut was released on “More of the Monkees” in January ’67.

I won’t dispute that the Paul Butterfield Blues Band‘s version, released as a cut on East-West in August ’66, is heads and shoulders above the Monkees’ version. With the exact same lyrics the Butterfield track sounds cool and lamenting — a downbeat adult song about a hurtin’ relationship. The irony (curiosity?) is that Nesmith didn’t receive a song-writing credit on East-West.

CNN Debate Moderator at 3:00 mark: “Mr. Vice President, just to be clear. You’ve just committed here tonight that your running mate, if you get the nomination, will be a woman?”
Joe Biden: “Yes.”

It’s been years since I stood next to an adult Hereford steer as he took care of business. I’ll leave it at that. It’s called “getting out of your element.”

Travelling on two-lane graytops, slowing down or stopping in little one-horse hamlets, the wide-open flatness, etc. This is the way to go. Callous as this may sound but the poorer delta towns, being older and more ramshackle, are texturally richer and more Americana. American flags are ubiquitous. You just have to forget about where the locals are in their heads. Then again the region is wokester-free.