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The 2021 Oscar telecast will probably be bumped into April, according to a story by The Hollywood Reporter‘s Scott Feinberg. I began suggesting this last month. What choice does the Academy have?

During tomorrow’s Academy board of governors meeting the date of the 2021 Oscar ceremony, currently set for Sunday, 2.28, “may be delayed by as many as eight weeks,” Feinberg is reporting. Which would mean a new Oscar date of 4.18.21 or 4.25.21, which of course are both Sundays.

This would also mean “extending the eligibility window beyond Dec. 31, 2020,” probably to sometime in mid-March and perhaps even 3.31.21. Why not?

The delay will be prompted by the fact that the coronavirus has not yet receded and, according to some, could surge again with a second wave sometime in the fall.

Feinberg: “The governors are not expected to determine the format for the ceremony yet — in-person or virtual — as they feel they still have time to see how the pandemic unfolds before making that call. They did, however, need to put a hold on a new date on the calendar of its broadcasting partner, ABC.

“While highly unusual, these moves by the Academy are not unprecedented. The Oscars has been delayed three times before — due to LA flooding in 1938; following the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1968; and after the attempted assassination of Pres. Ronald Reagan in 1981.

Keep in mind that the Oscars were held in April between ’59 and ’72, and then seven or eight more times after that. The last April telecast happened on April 11, 1988.

Two or three times in my teens I ran away from home. Briefly, I mean. My friends and I wanted to see the world by way of hitchhiking adventures during spring vacation or summer holiday.

I never asked for my parents’ permission as it was understood they’d never approve. Everything was always “no, no, too dangerous, too late, too reckless, too rowdy,” etc. Not to mention “you need to buckle down and study harder or your life will be ruined.” My 16 year-old view was “how could my life be any worse?”

I would be grounded when I returned, of course, but at least my friends and I got to be Jack Kerouac and Neal Casady for a few days. Kings of the road.

Anyway it was this impulse that led to a brief episode when I sat in a rural South Carolina jail for a day and a half on suspicion of murder. In the mid ’60s.

A friend and I were hitching in some off-the-highway area west of Charleston. The cops, we later learned, were on the lookout for some guy with longish hair who had killed a middle-aged woman, or something like that. Beatle-length hair was a semi-exotic thing in the rural south back then. My hair was John Lennon-on-the-cover-of-Rubber Soul-styled, and that was all the local fuzz needed. They pulled over, asked where we were headed. One of the cops, adorned in a jacket and tie and a pair of reflector shades, smiled and said he needed to take us in and check our stories out. He called me “Ringo.”

We were booked on a vagrancy charge and put into a two-bunk cell. It was one of those mid-sized jails with eight cells, four on either side of a middle walkway. The lighting was on the darkish side. There was a young African American dude in the cell across from ours, and he, too, was impressed by my Lennon hair. He was staring and grinning as his hands gripped the bars of his cell. The light was such that his white eyeballs and white teeth stood out as he smiled and sang “she loves you, yeah yeah yeah…she loves you, yeah yeah yeah.”

After 36 hours I somehow managed to get myself verified as non-dangerous and law-abiding without giving the cops my parents’ phone number. Maybe my friend’s father vouched for me. Or a cousin or someone. I forget.

In his latest (6.12) “Making Sense with Sam Harris” podcast, we are presented with a highly thoughtful litany of observations, ruminations, fatalisms, meandering questions, laments, analyses, downbeat fragments, etc. And then, finally, just before the 1:10 mark, Harris finally gets down and actually makes a couple of points. About the whole “violent cops vs. innocent persons of color who are being killed indiscriminately” thing.

Harris starting at 1:09: “Most cops are not confident in their ability to control a person. They’re continually confronting people who are bigger or younger or more athletic or more aggressive than they are. Cops are not super-heroes. They’re ordinary people with insufficient training. And once things turn physical, they can’t afford to give a person who is now assaulting a police officer, the benefit of the doubt.

“And this is something that people seem totally confused about. They see a video of someone fighting with a cop, and punching him or her in the face. And the person is armed. Many people think that cop should just punch back. And that any use of deadly force, at that point, would be totally disproportionate. But that’s not how violence works. It’s not the cop’s job to be the best bare-knuckled boxer on earth, so that he doesn’t have to use his gun. The cop can’t risk getting repeatedly hit in the face and knocked out, because there’s always a gun in play.

“This is the cop’s perception of the world, and it’s a justifiable one, given the dynamics of human violence.

“Now, you might think that cops shouldn’t carry guns. Why can’t we just be like England? That’s a point that can be debated, but it requires considerable thought in a country where there are over 300 million guns in circulation. The United States is not England.

“Again — really focus on what is happening when a cop is attempting to arrest a person. It’s not up to you [the alleged law-breaker] to decide whether or not you should be arrested. And does it matter that you know you didn’t do anything wrong? How could that fact be effectively communicated in the moment by your not following police commands?

“I’m gonna ask this again: how could the fact that you’re innocent, that you’re not a threat to the cop, that you’re not about to suddenly attack him or produce a weapon of your own…how could those things be effectively communicated at the moment he’s attempting to arrest you, by your resisting arrest?

“And unless you call the cops yourself, you don’t really know what the situation is. If I’m walking down the street I don’t know if a cop who’s approaching me didn’t just get a call that a guy who looks like Ben Stiller just committed an armed robbery. I know I didn’t do anything. I know I’m mystified as to why the cop is paying attention to me at that moment. But I don’t know what’s in the cop’s head.

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Please take note of the completely predictable, bow-wow, tail-wagging-the-dog thinking that went into Robbie Collin’s 6.12 Telegraph essay, “Let’s Not Kid Ourselves — Tropic Thunder‘s blackface joke is no better than Bo’ Selecta.”

I hereby propose the immediate lifetime cancelling of Robert Downey, Jr. and Ben Stiller for this heinous spoonful of cinematic cyanide satire, and of course the immediate removal of Tropic Thunder itself from all streaming services. Not. Kidding. Goofing around.

“Try To Imagine Tropic Thunder Being Released Now,” posted on 11.9.18:

Ben Stiller‘s Tropic Thunder was released just over a decade ago. You know what would happen if Stiller had never made the original but had somehow made the exact same film and released it today, right? You know what would happen. At the very least Robert Downey, Jr. would be executed and sushi’ed on Twitter.”

Gus Van Sant‘s masterful Drugstore Cowboy opened 30 and 1/2 years ago. I just bought a rental as it’s been a while. Matt Dillon‘s “Bob Hughes” will always be his finest role.

He was 24 or 25 during filming, and his career wasn’t exactly surging at the time.

Dillon’s debut performance in Jonathan Kaplan‘s Over The Edge (’79), performed when he was 14 or so, put him into orbit . Through the ’80s he was a solid marquee attraction, but the vitality had been ebbing. And then along came Drugstore Cowboy in the fall of ’89, and Dillon was right back on top.

Now he’s 56, and boy, does time fly.

My second favorite Drugstore Cowboy character? James Remar‘s “Gentry”, a narcotics detective. Followed by Kelly Lynch‘s “Diane.” And William S. Burroughs‘ performance as himself…perfect.

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Against my better judgment and despite my disappointment with the Jaws 4K Bluray, I’ve ordered the 4K Spartacus (Universal Home Video, 7.21).

Because a 4K disc of a large-format film (Spartacus was shot in the VistaVision-like Technirama process) that’s been drawn from a 6K harvest promises to look extra rich and detailed, and because restoration guru Robert Harris, who oversaw the original 1991 restoration as well as the 2015 4K digital restoration (which again was harvested from the 6K scan), supervised the finessing of the 4K disc.

If the 4K Spartacus Bluray doesn’t deliver an unmistakable bump, there’s gonna be trouble. That’s all I’m saying. I won’t take well to being burned twice.

Four days ago Blocked & Reported‘s Katie Herzog and Jesse Singal posted a podcast titled “Bari Weiss Is Right.” Which is a good and welcome thing because Bari Weiss is right about the behavior of N.Y. Times fanatics during the Tom Cotton / James Bennet debacle.

The theme is the “complete collapse of institutional authority” along with a “major cultural crack-up” in media-journalist circles.

Herzog/Singal: “Bari Weiss did some tweets about how there is a generational divide at The New York Times that is, in her view, hampering the paper’s ability to publish quality commentary and journalism. In response, a sizable cohort of her colleagues LITERALLY devoured her (metaphorically, on Twitter). In their most frustrated episode yet, Katie and Jesse explain why Bari was fundamentally right. The fact that so many journalists think Bari is making this up is pretty insane given the rampant evidence for it.”

Herzog has been an HE favorite over the last couple of years. I especially enjoyed “Call-Out Culture Is a Toxic Garbage Dumpster Fire of Trash,” posted on 1.23.18.

Insignificant Quibble: Herzog and Singal are so sharp and fleet-minded and ultra-knowledgeable that it’s almost difficult to listen to them. Especially because they speak in “vocal slur fry”, and I hate that shit as a rule.  But they’re otherwise cool.

“Vocal Slur Fry Classes,” originally posted on 9.10.14.

And don’t overlook Damon Linker‘s “The woke revolution in American journalism has begun“…some of the same observations. And Steven A. Holmes‘ cnn.com piece, “I love The New York Times, but what they did was wrong.”

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My recently ordered Jaws 4K Bluray was on the doorstep when we returned last evening (7:45ish) from Mexico. I popped it into my Samsung 4K Bluray player around 9:30 pm, and almost immediately I was going “wait…what? This is it?”

Because I wasn’t seeing my #1 basic requirement when it comes to 4K discs, which is a moderately exciting bump or an agreeable change for the better compared to the most recently released 1080p version. Official HE verdict: The 4K upgrade of Steven Spielberg‘s sea-change classic is approvable but underwhelming.

Here’s how I explained it last night to a tech-savvy industry friend: “I watched the 4K Jaws tonight, and while it certainly looks crisp and clean and handsome enough, there’s no detectable enhancement compared to the eight-year-old 1080p Bluray version. Not to these eyes, at least.

“And please don’t start with your old ‘have your 4K player and TV been properly calibrated?’ question, which you throw at me every time there’s an issue. My set-up is close to dead perfect. Everything always looks great on it. I’ve never been happier with a TV in my life.

“But the 4K Jaws disappoints. We tend to forget that Bill Butler‘s cinematography was never intended to be eye candy. It’s a utilitarian small-town drama mixed with a monster flick. Butler delivered pro-level work, but the idea was never to get people to drop to their knees. Obviously shot with efficiency, but never an attempt to show off. Butler was unpretentiously serving the story while delivering natural atmospheric elements.

“We tend to forget that color-wise Jaws is just this side of slightly desaturated, and many of the exterior shots have a kind of hazy seaside humidity appearance. It’s almost a little soft-focusy, and it certainly looks misty in some daytime scenes. Which is fine in itself. I’m just saying that it looks and feels like the 2012 Bluray. Not a bad looking presentation, but it hardly ever jumps out at you. It never makes you say ‘wow, I’ve never seen it look this good.’

“The bottom line is that I feel burned. My feeling is that Universal Home Video hustled me. They sold me a bill of goods. They tied a tin can to my tail. They led me down a garden path. They flim-flammed me.”

Tech guy has also seen the 4K Jaws, and his assessment was more generous. “It’s very different from the 2012 Bluray,” he said. “A far more cohesive image. Solid colors. Nice HDR that actually works. Dolby Atmos, which you can play with a sound bar. And perfect grain levels.”

HE reply: “What about the forthcoming Spartacus 4K disc (7.21)? Have you heard if it delivers any kind of bump? I’m not sure I want to shell out for this. I’m feeling a bit swindled here.

“Remember that I’m a Bluray peon — I look and see and judge in peon terms. Your technical perspective and insight are reflected in what you wrote and are much appreciated, but it doesn’t look substantially different than the 2012 Bluray. Not really.

“No bump, no buy. That’s how peons see things when it comes to a potential 4K purchase.”

However, the 4K Jaws also contains that legendary two-hour “Making of Jaws” doc that stretches back to the laser-disc days. If you’ve never watched it, please do.

In a discussion with Steven Soderbergh on the beautiful, relatively recent Billy Budd Bluray, Terence Stamp is asked about his blonde angel appearance in this 1962 film, which was shot when he was 23 or thereabouts.

Stamp replies that “getting older is like being steadily, increasingly punished for a crime I didn’t commit.”

I’m not calling this any kind of profound universal truth, but it’s certainly a biological one. After a couple of drinks most once-beautiful lads and lassies with any inclination toward candor will admit to feeling this way deep down. Optimistic people claim that aging is not a “massacre”, as some have called it, but generally a good thing because sensible 45-plus lifestyles will usually nudge you into greater kindnesses, a mellower mindset and a deeper, richer spiritual awareness of the cosmic altogether.

Which is all true, but at the same aging thins your hair out or flat-out destroys it unless you seek a Prague remedy. It also makes your nose and ears look bigger, and your teeth smaller and less white.

On the other hand it’s nice to know that the Prague option is always there. I for one am glad I took care of some business in that fine, fair city. Plus it’s a great foodie town and one of the greatest places on the planet to just roam around endlessly minus any particular destination or game plan.

No defunding or disbanding but…? Significant portions of police departments are regarded as unrestrained brutalists who represent a kind of governmentally-funded Trumpian militia. So if you, the Hollywood Elsewhere administrator, were in charge of getting rid of “the bad apples,” how would you do it? Obviously the uniformed goons need to go, but how do we decide which goons are the worst? I’m asking.

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For about 22 years I’ve been a proud owner of a real-deal samurai sword, a Claymore sword from Germany, and what I’ve been told is an 18th Century Barry Lyndon sword. And they’re all in good shape. I had the samurai sword re-sharpened about 15 years ago and it’ll split a hair.

Two days ago Dylan called to suggest that I send the sword to Jett for his 32nd birthday, which was yesterday. Dylan and Jett were totally into swords during the waning days of the Clinton administration, when they were nine and ten.

Dylan’s idea was that the samurai sword would connect Jett to those days, and how we hung out and went on car trips and attended screenings, etc.. So I decided to send the samurai to Jett in Jersey City and the Claymore to Dylan in Austin.

Around 4:45 pm I took them to a UPS store but the guy said he’s not allowed to send weapons. “Well, they’re technically weapons, okay, but not really,” I said. “They’re mainly relics of a distant past. Only Mel Gibson would regard them as actual weapons.”

He suggested FedEx, which was just down the street. I had to pack them first, of course, or the FedEx guys would say the same thing.

The UPS guy sold me a couple of tall boxes and masking tape and a bag of styrofoam peanuts. But I couldn’t wrap them in the store, he said. Out to the parking lot. The wind was blowing and the peanuts were flying all over the place, but I eventually got it done.

The FedEx guys didn’t even ask what was in the boxes. A Thursday delivery was out of the question, but to ensure that the samurai would arrive at Jett’s Jersey City home by today I had to pay them $185 bills. And the box wasn’t even that heavy.

Jett’s text arrived today at 11:49 am: “Thanks for the gift…I guess. Lol.”