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There’s a vague physical resemblance between the glistening, shimmering Marilyn Monroe of 60 and 70 years ago and the exquisitely coiffed, gowned and made-up Ana de Armas, even though the latter doesn’t really “look” like Norma Jean Baker, an unloved and abused daughter of average Midwestern Anglo-Saxon parents. Ana looks like a beautiful Cuban-born actress trying to do her best and mostly pulling it off, which is fine as far as it goes. Here’s hoping that Blonde, directed by Andrew Dominik and expected to be a difficult sit in some respects, shows up at Telluride after debuting in Venice.

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Another discussion stirred by Ethan Hawke‘s The Last Movie Stars…, and especially by Paul Schrader‘s observations about Hud…

HE to Schrader: “Your observation is 100% spot-on, but the kicker in Hud is the ending — when Newman, the last one in the house, pops open a beer, strolls over to the kitchen door, gazes at the departing Brandon de Wilde, reflects for seven or eight seconds, and then delivers that cynical ‘fuck it and to hell with it’ gesture…that‘s what sunk in, what altered the American male identity from 1963 onward, at least as far as movies were concerned.”

Newman: “‘We thought [the] last thing people would do was accept Hud as a heroic character. His amorality just went over [the audience’s] head — all they saw was this western, heroic individual.’”

HE to Newman: “They saw the amorality, of course, but they still liked Hud’s irreverence, rogue swagger and cocksure fuck-all attitude…his general disdain for old conservative values. And they liked that all those women, married and single, went to bed with him.”

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And therefore it’s finally recognized, a decade after the fact and to the voting Academy’s eternal shame, that the 2011 Best Picture Oscar shouldn’t have gone to The Fucking Artist With a Cute Little Dog but to Bennett Miller‘s wise, seasoned and spiritually humming sports saga, Moneyball.

I knew the truth of things back then, but the mob was in love with Michel Hazanavicius’ black-and-white gimmick film and there was no talking them out of it.

Moneyball, Alexander Payne‘s The Descendants and Woody Allen‘s Midnight in Paris are the only 2011 Best Pic nominees that have stood the test of time. The Artist sure as hell hasn’t. And Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, The Help, Hugo, The Tree of Life, War Horse…no need to re-bash but they weren’t good enough.

The bear-like, Brooklyn-born, large-of-spirit Paul Sorvino has passed at age of 83. I ran into Sorvino at the Westport Country Playhouse tavern in ’77 or ’78, and what an aura…he was probably a little bombed but full of feeling and come-what-may passion…I smiled and patted Sorvino on the shoulder in a brotherly way and said “Yo, The Gambler!” and he went “oohhhh, yeah, yeah.” I was referring to Hips, the loan shark in Karel Riesz and James Toback‘s 1974 film, and that moment when he tells a deadbeat gambler who owes more than he has “you worthless contemptible deadbeat motherfucking dog…die!” Yes, his defining performance is Paul Cicero in Goodfellas (“Now I gotta turn my back”) but let’s not forget his performances in The Day of the Dolphin, Bloodbrothers, The Brink’s Job, Cruising, Reds (Louis Fraina!), That Championship Season (Phil Romano!), Dick Tracy (‘Lips’ Manlis!), The Firm (Tommie Morolto!), Nixon (Henry Kissinger!), and Bulworth.

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HE to Tar director-screenwriter-producer Todd Field:

“That Tar teaser I just watched is one of the best movie teasers I’ve ever seen IN MY FUCKING LIFE…no lie, straight cards, on my knees.

“It’s so good that I wonder if or how the film itself can live up to the promise, but let’s be optimistic and presume as much. But it really is the shit, man…I LOVE THIS EARTH-SHAKING TEASER.

“I fully expect to see Tar in Telluride…caaannn’t wait.”

Posted on 9.17.21:

During a CinemaCon 2022 presentation, Olivia Wilde said that Don’t Worry, Darling (Warner Bros., 9.23) had been inspired by Inception, The Matrix and The Truman Show. To that I would add Don Siegel‘s Invasion of the Body Snatchers (’56), Martin Ritt‘s No Down Payment (’57) and Bryan Forbes‘ The Stepford Wives (’75).

Eight words: The white guys are up to no good.

The second video captures Wilde’s presentation of the Don’t Worry, Darling trailer at CinemaCon in Las Vegas on Tuesday, 4.26.22, and of course the moment when she was served custody papers by lawyers representing ex-fiance Jason Sudeikis. Wilde and Sudeikis have two kids. They split up over Wilde’s affair with Don’t Worry, Darling star Harry Styles, which reportedly began sometime in October 2020. Wilde and Styles are still together.

Before moving into Graceland in the spring of ’57, Elvis Presley and his mom and dad (Gladys, Vernon) lived in eight Memphis residences, starting with their initial arrival in November 1948.

Here are the eight addresses, all linked to Google Maps:

1. 370 Washington Ave. (11/48 through early summer of 1949 — $11/weekly rental.)

2. 572 Poplar Avenue, just a block north of 370 Washington.

3. Lauderdale Courts apartments, 185 Winchester Street (9 blocks north of Beale Street) — a two-bedroom, first-floor apartment, #328, for $35 a month. September ’49 to January ’53.

4. A brief stay at 698 Saffarans Ave.

5. 462 Alabama Ave., moved in April 1953.

6. They moved to 2414 Lamar Avenue in 1954 — the year when things began to happen for Elvis.

7. In late 1955 they moved into a slightly nicer home at 1414 Getwell Road.

8. In March 1956, two months after Elvis struck it rich with sales of “Heartbreak Hotel”, they all moved into a spacious ranch-style home at 1034 Audubon Drive.

In a 7.22 Variety piece, Oscar handicapper and identity-celebrationist Clayton Davis has actually poured water on the notion that Jordan Peele‘s Nope is an Oscar contender. “In the land of the Oscars, major Nope attention for best picture, director and original screenplay appears out of reach”, Clayton says.

He also states that Peele “is surely in store for the most polarizing reception of his career, as the film’s visuals and narrative beats will divide critics and audiences.” Translation: Clayton isn’t much of a fan.

Peele is obviously not “our modern-day Alfred Hitchcock,” as Davis contends. Because Peele hasn’t the slightest interest in or aptitude for the art of creating suspense. Nor is Peele a skilled “organ player” of audience emotions, nor is he a master montage guy who uses carefully deployed editing and precise camera movement…basic Hitchcock tools. Nor is he an explorer of anxiety and uncertainty or dreamy moods. Peele is nowhere near Hitchcock, c’mon. At best he’s a black M. Night Shyamalan, as he mainly delivers racially-stamped spookers. And even a charitable reading of Nope wouldn’t compare it to Signs, which is at least ten times scarier.

So now that the HE community has seen Nope, what’s the verdict?

HE review excerpt: “No discipline, this fucking film. It’s ‘imaginative,’ if you want to call it that. [But] when Gordy the chimp appears, the film comes alive. What Gordy has to do with the dumbshit rascal white-oppressor aliens is anyone’s guess.

“Steven Yeun costars in Nope, and I couldn’t understand why he was in it. Yes, he has something to do with Gordy (I won’t say) and he wears a red suit and a big white cowboy hat in one scene, but he has NOTHING to do with anything.

“I need to re-watch this movie with subtitles some day.”

Told by Bill Maher to Cedric the Entertainer…begins at zero and ends at 2:35.

Jordan Peele‘s Nope opens on Friday, 7.22, which really means Thursday night. I’ll catch it at 7 pm this evening.

Premise: “After random objects falling from the sky result in the death of their father, ranch-owning siblings OJ and Emerald Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya, Keke Palmer) attempt to capture video evidence of an unidentified flying object with the help of tech salesman Angel Torres (Brandon Perea) and documentarian Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott).”

If your first name is Antlers, what do your friends call you — Ant? Anty?

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.