slider

On a 2001 Charlie Rose Show about Stanley Kubrick: A Life in Pictures, Christiane Kubrick was asked to define a certain personality trait or mental attitude that genius-level filmmakers seem to share in common. She said this is unknowable and therein lies the fascination.

HE says “holdupski.” HE defines that mindset as an educated “fuck it” thing…mindful and respectful of artistic history and precedent, but not especially intimidated by same…an attitude that says “okay, these other filmmakers did it this or that way and that’s fine, but I’m here now and this is my film so fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.”

In a phrase, a genius artist is often possessed of a certain kind of reverent irreverence.

Every major-league director I’ve spoken with in person over the decades (and we’re talking quite a few) shares this trait.

While watching this I was also struck by how radiantly young the 59 year-old Martin Scorsese looked during this taping, certainly compared to now. Guys in their 50s and even their early 60s can look really great if they’ve watched their diets and haven’t done too many drugs in their youth. And it’s believed that Scorsese, remember, was a total cokehead in the mid ’70s so he came out of that dungeon without too many bruises.

Read more

Posted on 8.7.19: “Speaking as an X-factor white guy from a middle-class New Jersey and Connecticut upbringing, I don’t feel repelled or disgusted by my Anglo-Saxon heritage and family history.

“I deeply regret the cruelty visited upon immigrants and various cultures of color by whites, naturally, but the fact that racist or tribal attitudes were common throughout most of the 20th, 19th and 18th Centuries in this country and for centuries earlier in Europe, the Middle East and even Africa doesn’t mean that white people (more particularly my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents, reaching back to the mid 1800s) were inherently evil.

“By current standards my ancestors may seem insufficiently evolved, agreed, but they were born into a certain culture and were dealt certain cards, and most carried the weight as best they could. They weren’t born with hooves, tails and horns on their heads.

“Nor do I feel that elemental decency is absent among the majority of white people today. Okay, among middle to upper-middle-class coastals.

I feel profoundly repelled by the attitudes of your backwater Trump supporters, of course, but they are not me or my own. I come from a family of “good”, well-educated, imperfect people who had their occasional issues (including alcoholism) but believed in hard work, discipline, spring cleaning, ironing their own shirts and trimming the hedges and mowing the lawn on Saturday afternoons, and who exuded decency and compassion for the most part.”

Updated: I am not the devil’s spawn, and neither are my two sons and certainly not my granddaughter. I’ve witnessed and dealt with ignorant behavior all my life, but I’ve never bought into the idea of Anglo-Saxon culture being inherently evil. Please.

Frank Thring’s Pontius Pilate by way of Gore Vidal: “Where there is great striving, great government or power, even great feeling or compassion, error also is great. We progress and mature by fault. Perfect freedom has no existence. The grown man knows the world he lives in.”

This is a sad Carnegie Hall Cinema story from late ‘78 or early ‘79. I was working as a manager of this cellar-level, not-for-profit repertory house, which was owned and operated by the moustachioed, semi-rapscallion Sid Geffen (who also ran the Bleecker Street Cinema).

The name of the young woman who worked in the CHC ticket booth has faded, but let’s call her Deirdre of the Sorrows. When I called this a sad story I meant it was about unfairness, and it boils down to this: Not only did poor Deirdre suffer trauma through no fault of her own, but she was blamed for it.

One fine weekday afternoon the Carnegie Hall Cinema was robbed of $170 or $180. (Or more — I was never much for numbers.). A stick-up man walked up to the street-level booth (Seventh Ave. just north of 56th), pulled out a pistol, told terrified Deirdre to fork over and she did.

I quickly called the fuzz. I can’t recall if it was a plainclothes or a uniformed beat cop who dropped by, but he interviewed Deirdre and myself and maybe Sid, filed a report, etc.

Two days later the place was hit again — same guy, same gat, same terrified Deirdre. So Sid fired her.

Sid had figured or intuited one of three things: (1) Deirdre had made the first robbery too easy or anxiety-free for the thief, so much so that he figured that double-dipping would be no-sweat, (2) Deirdre was “in on it” with the thief — a theory that I found paranoid and silly, knowing Deirdre as I did (and no, I hadn’t even thought about trying for any sort of erotic entanglement — that would have been crude and unprofessional plus she wasn’t my type), and (3) Deirdre was a Jonah or a bringer of bad luck.

I didn’t think Sid gave any serious credence to the cahoots theory, but anyone would consider (1) and (3), especially the easy-mark thing.

Sid never asked for my opinion, but if he had I would have said “Deirdre is a responsible, decent person…this was just bad cards.” And those last five words would have, in Sid’s eyes, helped to seal her fate.

Dooley Wilson’s “Sam” in Casablanca: “Leave him alone, Miss Ilsa. You’re bad luck to him.”

Read more

This 9.17.22 video, shot by “Year Zero with Wesley Yang“, is an argument about gender ideology between Billboard Chris (the billboard says “children cannot consent to puberty blockers“) and hyper Zoomer girl with the white glasses. It could be an interesting discussion if you could hear more of what they’re saying, but the jet planes keep roaring overhead. I’m with Billboard Chris…sorry.

It’s no surprise that Steven Spielberg‘s The Fabelmans has nabbed the Toronto International Film Festival’s People’s Choice award, given the glowing reviews and all. The People’s Choice award is a strong indicator of across-the-board appeal. Then again previous winners have included Belfast, Jojo Rabbit, Room, The Imitation Game, Precious, etc. So you never really know.

Imagine if the beloved Martin Scorsese had announced that Killers of the Flower Moon will be his last film and that he’ll henceforth he’d be devoting himself to novel-writing. Or if, God forbid, James Cameron or Kathryn Bigelow or Alexander Payne or Guillermo del Toro were to announce the same.

Variety and The Hollywood Reporter, trust me, would almost certainly collect a few admiring quotes from colleagues while lamenting the eclipse of a great and prodigious talent. Their stories would also list some of his or her more luminous career highlights.

So what did the trades publish in response to Woody Allen’s announcement that he’ll be retiring from filmmaking after he completes work on his 50th film, a Paris-based dramedy that’s allegedly in the vein of Match Point? They mainly recited police-blotter stuff — dry, flat summaries of how Allen’s career has been diminished in the eyes of wokesters and the mainstream press over the past few years due to Dylan Farrow‘s account of what allegedly happened on 8.4.92 with no logical counter-views, and how Amazon cut him loose, his autobiography was dropped by Hachette and he’s had to rely on European financing, etc.

In so doing Variety and The Hollywood Reporter have effectively said the following: (a) “Well, it’s not surprising that Allen is finally throwing in the towel,” (b) “We can’t honestly say that we’re distraught over this news” and (c) “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea that Allen goes away and stays away, considering his current reputation.”

On 7.28.22 Indiewire‘s Christian Zilko and Ryan Lattanzio reported that Allen had told Alec Baldwin that he was thinking of retiring, and they posted the same kind of chilly summary.

HE to Variety‘s Anna Marie de la Fuente, The Hollywood Reporter‘s Ryan Gajewski, the Indiewire team and their editors (along with all the others who’ve posted similar remarks): “No offense, guys, but you’re showing disrespect in a way that strikes most of us as odious and repellent. You honestly make me want to throw up.

“Allen is incontestably a great filmmaker — a man of considerable genius and relentless innovative creativity, a guy whose output has enhanced the quality and worldliness of American cinema over the last 55 years, and whose sterling reputation as a filmmaker will be remembered and cherished long after the authors and editors of these repulsive trade articles will have died and been forgotten.

“This is a man, remember, who made 15 great or near-great films over a 45-year period (starting in the mid ’70s and ending in the early 20teens) — Annie Hall, Interiors, Manhattan, Stardust Memories, Zelig, Broadway Danny Rose, The Purple Rose of Cairo, Hannah and Her Sisters, Crimes and Misdemeanors, Husbands and Wives, Bullets Over Broadway, Mighty Aphrodite, Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Midnight in Paris (15).

Not to mention 18 others that most of us regard as sturdy and respectable — What’s Up, Tiger Lily?, Take the Money and Run, Bananas, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, Sleeper, Love and Death, A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy, Radio Days, Another Woman, Alice, Everyone Says I Love You, Deconstructing Harry, Celebrity, Sweet and Lowdown, Small Time Crooks, Melinda and Melinda, Irrational Man, Blue Jasmine.

Only one other world-class director has cranked out as many first-rate films over a period that lasted over half a century — Alfred Hitchcock.

How dare you dismiss this man with your implied derision and disdain? Do you understand that in the greater scheme of things Allen is a man of considerable wit and vision and artistic consequence and that you and yours, comparatively speaking, are insects?

It’s not a rumor — some tiddly-wink at HBO Max has removed Warren Beatty‘s cigar from the McCabe and Mrs. Miller promotional art on the HBO Max menu. Ditto Paul Newman‘s cigar from HBO Max’s promotional art for The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean.

I’m presuming that someone figured that it’s wrong to promote smoking of any kind so the cigar was zotzed. HE is calling this an advertising form of woke “presentism.” What’s next? Digitally erasing Robert Mitchum‘s cigarettes in Out of the Past?

\

The top 2022 Venice Film Festival winners:

Golden Lion for Best Film: All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, d: Laura Poitras
Grand Jury Prize: Saint Omer, d: Alice Diop
Silver Lion for Best Director: Bones and All, d: Luca Guadagnino
Special Jury Prize: No Bears, d: Jafar Panahi
Best Screenplay: The Banshees of Inisherin, Martin McDonagh
Volpi Cup for Best Actress: Tár, Cate Blanchett
Volpi Cup for Best Actor: The Banshees of Inisherin, Colin Farrell
Marcello Mastroianni Award for Best Young Actor: Bones and All, Taylor Russell

British royalty is mostly about the notion of high-born continuity, which most of us find vaguely comforting on some level. (My heritage and bloodline come from England, a fact that automatically makes me a racist cad, so I can feel it to some extent.) Nostalgic, misty-eyed history, pomp and circumstance, and tourism. When did the British monarchy become ceremonial rather than authoritative? During the mid to later stages of Queen Victoria’s reign (1860s-1901), most would say. 130 or 140 years ago. Exalted in a sense but mainly about soft, symbolic power throughout the entire 20th Century and into today. And yet…

Read more

Sebastián Leilo’s The Wonder is a somber, better-than-decent, glacially-paced period drama.

Set in rural Ireland of 1862, it’s about a struggle between the oppression of strict Irish Catholic dogma vs. a woman’s common humanity. I respected the effort, and certainly admired Florence Pugh’s performance as a willful, Florence Nightingale-trained nurse. Perfect period sets. All the supporting perfs pass muster.

For me the standout visual element is the raw Irish countryside, and particularly those 16 or 17 shots of Pugh trudging across said terrain. After the sixth or seventh shot I was reminded of that magnificent 2009 Johnnie Walker commercial with Robert Carlyle (i.e., “The Walk”)…5 & 1/2 minutes, a single tracking shot upon a gravel path in rural Scotland, brilliant choreography, a legend in the annals of advertising.

The most interesting aspect of Owen Gleiberman’s Venice Film Festival review of Don’t Worry Darling is his enthusiasm for Harry Styles:

“What’s convincing is how easily Styles sheds his pop-star flamboyance, even as he retains his British accent and takes over one party scene by dancing as if he were in a ’40s musical.

“There’s actually something quite old-fashioned about Styles. With his popping eyes, floppy shock of hair, and saturnine suaveness, he recalls the young Frank Sinatra as an actor. It’s too early to tell where he’s going in movies, but if he wants to he could have a real run in them.”

The Styles film to really watch, in other words, is My Policeman:

Capsule description of Wilde’s film: “A kind of candy-colored Stepford Wives in the Twilight Zone meets The Handmaid’s Tale.”

HE on 7.22.22:

Variety‘s Clayton Davis has gone apeshit over Lukas Dhont‘s Close, which I raved about from Cannes on 5.27.22. Clayton may not have seen Casablanca, but he’s definitely speaking the truth about Close. There’s no ducking it — this film is a masterpiece, and the people who are saying it’s too triggering are looking at it from an overly political perspective.