This is it, a document that contains smoking-gun proof that Attorney General Merrick Garland is committed first and foremost to political caution and squeamishness when it comes to the absolute necessity of prosecuting the only U.S. President in history to ignite mob rebellion against this country’s Constitutional system of transfer of Presidential power and scheme to overturn a legit election through manipulation and skullduggery. Donald Trump is an animal and a sociopath, and if the U.S. Justice Dept. doesn’t stand up and prosecute his loathsome ass then we are no longer a law-abiding Democracy and the concept of equal justice under law is meaningless — it’s that simple.

Jordan Peele‘s Nope opens seven days hence (7.22), and there’s no buzz at all. Donut. The first critics screenings begin next week. This doesn’t necessarily “mean” anything as distribs often screen horror films at the last minute.

Peele has made three features (Get Out, Us, Nope), has had two massive hits and become a brand, and many (including the absolutely relentless Bob Strauss) still swear by Get Out.

“It’s not Rosemary’s Baby but what is?,” a friend says. “But it’s infinitely better than The Stepford Wives.”

Peele, I replied, is a commercial filmmaker working in the thriller-horror-spooker field. He is what he is, but he’s not a 21st Century Rod Serling or Roald Dahl or Ira Levin.

Friendo: “The jury’s out, I think, on where he’s going.”

HE: “Strictly a genre tickler.

Friendo: “I think he’s very gifted. If he’s smart, he’ll make Nope his last horror film for a while.”

HE: “Due respect but I don’t think he knows how to do anything more than try to be the black Rod Serling. Except he never wrote anything like Patterns or Requiem for a Heavyweight.”

Friendo: “You think Get Out is decent but overrated, overly praised because of the woke factor, etc. I think it’s singular and gripping. Us didn’t quite work, but I think Get Out makes its mark.”

HE: “You know that story about Jordan having shot Get Out as a horror film AND as a comedy, and that he wasn’t sure which way to go but he finally figured it out in editing…right? This helps explain why Lil Rel Howery is clearly a character with comic attitude — the guy delivering comic relief.

Friendo: “That’s interesting. That would make it a rival to Ralph Rosenblum’s great story of how Annie Hall found its narrative form, its vibe, and its very identity as a romantic comedy through his editing of it. Of course, the thing about horror and comedy is that they’ve always gone together. The three greatest horror movies of the last 65 years — Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre — are all, on some level, horror comedies.”

HE: “That’s a very sophisticated (as in highly perverse) viewpoint, calling Psycho and Rosemary’s Baby comedies. I’ll allow that if you stretch the idea of ‘comedy’ to its breaking point, you could say that these two films are flavored with exceedingly dry comedy here and there. They’re basically low-key, naturalistic horror films flecked with dry humor here and there, but they hardly qualify as comedies.

After debuting at SXSW last March, Ethan Hawke‘s The Last Movie Stars, a six-part doc about the lives and careers of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, will begin streaming on HBO Max on 7.21.

I watched the first episode last March, and it’s clear that the focus is on what a wonderful, cooler-than-cool, super-glorious relationship Paul and Joanne had. They first met in ’53 or thereabouts, got married in 1958 and stayed together for 50 years. Paul died on 9.26.08.

To me the relentlessly celebrated mythology of Paul and Joanne’s marriage has always felt a tiny bit bothersome. As in less than trustworthy.

No marriage is easy or perfect or without issues. A workable, tolerable marriage is almost always the result of very hard work — all kinds of soul-barings, renegotiations and reappraisals at the kitchen table. Which is why portrayals of the Newman-Woodward marriage never seemed quite real to me.

Did they in fact have a strong and healthy marriage? All the accounts say yes, but to me the only thing that makes their history recognizably human (which is to say flawed) is the affair that Paul had with journalist Nancy Bacon in ’68 and ’69. An account of the affair was included in Shawn Levy‘s “Paul Newman: A Life” (2009).

If Ethan’s miniseries goes there, fine. But if he avoids it, he’s a sidestepper.

Friendo who knows the Newman-Woodward story and has dealt with the Newman family: “I haven’t watched the doc, but I’m sure it’s authorized, and as the surviving Newmans don’t care for anything remotely negative being said about their patriarch, I’m confident that it will avoid all unpleasant or even circumspect episodes/behaviors.

“[That said], I do believe that it was a truly golden relationship, built on mutual respect, amusement, tolerance, even passion. So, yeah, too good to be true, but also — for the most part — true.”

And you know what? For the sin of mentioning the 18-month Bacon episode I’m going to be attacked. Because people want to believe what they want to believe.

I disengaged from the Ghost Protocol Burj Khalifa scene almost immediately.

Tom Cruise‘s right-hand grip glove stopped working after 90 seconds of use, he fell 15 or 20 feet but stopped the fall with one grip-glove (the left one), used a firehouse to run down the outside of the bulding and then, toward the end, rappelled along the outside of the building and then leapt toward the open, glass-free window panel. Bullshit. I was so overwhelmed by skepticism that I couldn’t enjoy it.

But Matt Damon’s telling of the “safety guy” story to Conan O’Brien, which I only just listened to this morning…this is entertaining. Why? Because it reveals a certain kind of character trait — hardcore and perfectionist and focused only on the prize — in a funny way.

The Criterion Bluray of Paths of Glory looks absolutely perfect. I’ve seen a clean, grade-A print of this 1957 film projected in a first-rate screening room under optimum conditions, and the Criterion exceeds even that standard. It’s fine that Kino is releasing a 4K Bluray on 8.23, but how much better can it look? I’m trying to imagine this as we speak.

Down-on-my-knees respect for the legendary James Caan, who has sadly moved on to greener pastures at age 82.

Born in 1940 (three years younger than Warren Beatty and Robert Redford), Caan delivered fine performances in the ’60s and very early ’70s (especially in El Dorado, The Rain People, Brian’s Song and Rabbit Run) but didn’t hit the jackpot until he played Sonny Corleone in The Godfather (’72).

For the rest of the ’70s and into the early ’80s it was smooth sailing and mostly glory glory glory for this Bronx-born son of German-Jewish immigrants.

Caan made 15 films during an eight-year hot streak — Slither, Cinderella Liberty, The Gambler, Freebie and the Bean, The Godfather Part II, Funny Lady, Rollerball, The Killer Elite, Harry and Walter Go to New York, A Bridge Too Far, Another Man, Another Chance, Comes a Horseman, Chapter Two, Hide in Plain Sight and Thief.

All but four or five were either grade-A or B-plus, and fully respectable.

Caan’s greatest performances, hands down and in this order: Axel Freed in The Gambler (’74), Frank in Thief (’81) and Sonny in The Godfather I & II (’72 and ’74).

Caan’s most eloquent scene, arguably, is the Dostoevsky classroom lecture in The Gambler.

He rebounded in Rob Reiner‘s Misery (’90), of course, and did commendable work in Honeymoon in Vegas (’92), as a senior-aged wise guy in Wes Anderson‘s Bottle Rocket (’95), in James Gray‘s The Yards (’00) and in Lars von Trier‘s Dogville (’03).