William Deterle's The Hunchback of Notre Dame ('39) was one of my father's favorite films. He took my mother to see it at a Norwalk revival house on their honeymoon. No one’s idea of a romantic gesture, and yet he may have been subliminally reaching out — he may been saying to my mother “will you be my Esmeralda?”
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From Owen Gleiberman’s Variety riff on Daniel Craig’s dancing-around-Paris Belvedere spot: “If the new Belvedere Vodka commercial, starring Daniel Craig and directed by Taika Waititi, were a scene out of Craig’s latest film, it would be the best scene in the movie, or at least the one that everyone’s talking about. Then again, no one would mistake it for a movie scene.
“The commercial has a postmodern strike-a-pose viral aesthetic — it‘s two minutes of bliss frozen in time. As Craig saunters and dances through a swank hotel in Paris, it becomes the rare commercial in which a movie star isn’t being used to sell a product so much as he’s using the commercial to sell a shift in his own image.
“Yes, the extended spot is hawking vodka, and Craig probably got a paycheck that leaves most movie-star paychecks in the dust. Yet that’s all kind of beside the point. The commercial is Craig’s way of announcing who he is, or might be, now that he’s done with the role of James Bond.”
HE to Gleiberman: “Your Daniel Craig riff is very good. The ad is an inspired image makeover.
But it was a SERIOUS MISTAKE, I feel, for director Taika Waititi to send Craig into the interior of a glitzy-ass Kardashian Paris hotel. Because once inside that golden dungeon the endless organic glories and intrigues of Paris disappear. Because glitzy Kardashian hotels are the same boorishly vapid experience the world over…Paris, Milan, Moscow, NYC, Berlin, London, Seoul, Los Angeles, Dubai, Barcelona, Stockholm…exactly the same damn experience and atmosphere.
“And so the Belvedere ad fails in terms of spirit and imagination. And this failure, I regret to say, rubs off on Craig a little bit. It’s good but it could and should have been a lot better if it had been about silky Craig-as-Fat Boy Slim Chris Walken dancing and shuffling around several Paris nabes, it could have been ten or fifteen times better.”
From Mark Salisbury's "Burton on Burton": "Warner Bros. management disliked the title Beetlejuice and wanted to call the film House Ghosts. As a joke, Burton suggested Scared Sheetless and was horrified when the studio actually considered using it."
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This morning Jordan Ruimy sent me a screen capture of a half-interesting movie idea [after the jump]. I've re-worded it and used a shot of Back to the Future's "Biff" for an illustration, to wit: "A late 1950s or early 1960s high-school bully (like Sam Rechner or Oakes Fegley in The Fabelmans) is somehow transported into a 2022 high school or college -- an institution teeming with diversity, Tik-Tokers and trans kids."
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This is a very nickle-and-dime matter but…
In an 11.9 interview with N.Y. Times critic A.O. Scott, Steven Spielberg recalls his brief meeting with legendary director John Ford — an encounter depicted at the end of his latest film, the largely autobiographical The Fabelmans (Universal, 11.11).
“I was only about 16 when I met him,” Spielberg says, “and I didn’t know anything about his reputation, how surly and ornery he was and how he ate young studio executives for breakfast. That only came later when people began writing more about him. I felt I really escaped that office with my life.”
The slight problem is that Spielberg was born on 12.18.46 and therefore lived his sixteenth year of life between 12.18.62 and 12.18.63. Spielberg’s meeting with Ford, which happened at Radford Studios in Studio City, was arranged by a “second cousin” who was working on the then-upcoming Hogan’s Heroes, which began pre-production in ’64 before debuting on CBS in September ’65.
Let’s presume Spielberg met Ford sometime in the summer of ’64, while he was working as an unpaid assistant at Universal Studios’ editorial department. (He graduated from Saratoga High School in June 1965, at age 18.) He was therefore 17 and 1/2 when Ford instructed him about horizon lines — 17, not “about 16.” Just saying.
“Three Fabelmans Keepers,” posted on 11.9.22.
Closing remark: “It shouldn’t be this scary to talk about anything. It’s made my job incredibly difficult and to be honest with you, I’m getting sick of talking to a crowd like this. I love you to death and I thank you for your support, and I hope they don’t take anything away from me. Whoever ‘they’ are.”
...to host the 95th Oscar telecast, I mean? Did the producers even reach out in this regard? Maybe not, but Jimmy Kimmel is fine.
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I’ve been complaining about all-but-unintelligible movie dialogue for several years now, and the almost uniform response from the HE commentariat has been that it’s mostly my fault — my hearing isn’t what it used to be so I need to get a hearing aid and blah-dee-blah.
That may be true to some extent but movie dialogue has nonetheless been increasingly hard to understand over the last decade or so, and it’s absolutely not entirely my fault.
According to Slashfilm’s Ben Pearson and an absolutely historic article that I was too distracted to read until today, a good amount of the blame is on actors, mixing boards, theatre sound systems, Chris Nolan, etc.
Please accept my humble, bended-knee apology for overlooking Pearson’s piece, titled “Here’s Why Movie Dialogue Has Gotten More Difficult To Understand.”
And please read it, and then watch the video.
Pearson says the chief culprits are (a) Chris Nolan, who has made a fetish out of mixing his films so you can barely hear the dialogue, (b) self-conscious actors who deliver “soft, mumbling, under-their-breath delivery of some lines,” (c) a lack of respect for sound recording during principal photography, (d) too many digital tracks resulting in de-prioritizing dialogue, (e) mixing for cinemas vs. mixing for streaming.
One thing Pearson doesn’t mention is vocal-fry murmur, which Millennial and Zoomer actresses began to project back in the early teens. I first wrote about the vocal-fry plague eight years ago.
All I know is that I’m really looking forward to watching Tar at home with subtitles — something tells me this will be transformative.
…to come out of The Banshees of Inisherin will be Kerry Condon‘s Best Supporting Actress Oscar. Otherwise it’s an Irish death march — a well-composed, essentially nihilistic film about a self-destructive island of lost souls.
I haven’t seen the forthcoming 4K Casablanca Bluray (WHE, 11.8) but to go by the DVD Beaver screen captures it just looks darker, which is what 4K versions of classic films often provide…inkier, buried in shadow.
Compare the stills of the 4K version vs. the old 2007 Bluray — details you could see with the 2007 Bluray (which is still my favorite) you can’t see as clearly on the 4K. How is that an improvement?
Were the techs who created this inky Casablanca inspired by Criterion’s 2016 Bluray of Only Angels Have Wings? — one of the most bizarre and totally needless experiments in pointless shadow baths?
Home Theatre Forum‘s Robert Harris, posted on 11.4.22: “Casablanca looks fine in 4k. Blacks may be a bit richer than the previous Bluray, but beyond that I’m not seeing a great deal of difference. I’m seeing some constantly shifting grain patterns, which I can understand as much of the film is taken from dupes.
“Extremely fine in some facial close-ups and medium shots, far more normal in exterior long shots and other bits of the film. The management is obvious, but not a problem.
“If one owns [an earlier 1080p] Bluray version, is there enough of a 4k bump to purchase the film again? I’m not seeing it.”
My favorite is still the good old DNR’d 2007 Bluray. Perfect — I love it like family. I hated the 2012 70th anniversary Bluray, which covered Casablanca in billions upon billions of grain mosquitoes…infinite swarms swirling around the heads and inhaled into the lungs of poor Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Dooley Wilson, etc. Ghastly.
As to the 4K, why would anybody want to watch a Casablanca that’s been shadowed and darkened all to hell? Where is the upside in that? 4K treatments almost always smother with unneccessary inky darkness that often obscures detail.
The 2007 Casablanca Bluray is good enough for me. It’s my little baby, my teddy bear, my blue blanky.
Question: Why does the 4K Bluray jacket use a shot of younger Bogart (taken in the mid to late 30s) wearing a black tuxedo, which his somewhat older character, Richard Blaine, doesn’t wear in Casablanca? Why? What kind of perverse or diseased mind says “yeah, that’s fine — Bogart looks a few years younger but so what? And who cares about the black tux?”.
The only time I’ve really fallen head-over-heels for Barbra Streisand was when I saw her in Funny Girl. She really pours it out in that William Wyler film, and I just melted in the onwash of all that heart and soul.
But honestly? The main reason I was so susceptible to Barbra’s Fanny Brice was because I was tripping on Orange Wedge. That’s the truth of it — I saw and felt her like no other time in my life because of the soul-stirring power of lysergic acid diethylamide.
Which Streisand performances did the trick when I wasn’t tripping my brains out? K-K-K-K-Katie Morosky in The Way We Were I(’73), Cheryl Gibbons in All Night Long (’81) and Dr. Susan Loewenstein in The Prince of Tides (’91).
On 5.24.63 the 21-year-old Streisand met JFK after performing at the annual White House press dinner. (It happened at Washington’s Sheraton Park Hotel.) JFK: “You have a beautiful voice. How long have you been singing?’ Streisand: “As long as you’ve been President.”
In fact Streisand had begun professionally singing in 1960, first at the Lion, a Manhattan gay nightclub on West Ninth Street, and then in another Greenwich Village club, Bon Soir (40 West 8th Street).
Streisand said later that “I never get autographs for myself, but my mother had asked me to get [President Kennedy’s]. He signed a card for me and I said, ‘You’re a doll.’”
On or about 11.23.15 Barbra Streisand was awarded the 2015 Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama at the White House. At the 15-second mark Streisand’s facial expression goes “what?” when the guy reading a few salutory words refers to her career having lasted “six decades.”
At that point Streisand’s career had been going strong for just under five and a half decades, although she didn’t really get rolling until ’62-’63.
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