Aida Turturro (i.e., “Janice” on The Sopranos) briefly mentioned the possibility of a Sopranos feature on Jimmy Kimmel last night with a certain hyper-bunny tone of hope and/or expectation. But whatever chances there may be of Turturro or James Gandolfini or any of the present-day cast members being in a feature version was recently thrown into question by Sopranos producer-writer David Chase.
An MTV.com report quoted Chase as saying that an idea for a Godfather, Part II-like feature — “a story about the Sopranos√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢ grandparents first coming to this country” — is “interesting to me.” Naaah, forget it. The idea is way too Coppola and will feel like a retread. I have a brilliant idea, however. How about a Sopranos feature that is actually plot-driven in the William Shakespeare/John O’Hara sense of the term (i.e., a movie in which big things happen and characters face consequences), as opposed to the HBO series which is all about mood, metaphor, minutiae and morose Garden State atmosphere?

It’s not smoking in movies per se that’s so bad, but actors who use constant smoking as a behavioral crutch. Smoking can look marginally cool depending on how skilled or preternaturally cool the actor is, but it becomes extremely tedious and off-putting when done to excess. Now the Motion Picture Association of America is stepping in for somewhat different reasons and declaring that smoking will now affect movie ratings….maybe. A few too many self-conscious lungfuls and a film may end up with…what? An R rather than a PG-13? A PG-13 rather than a PG? Something along those lines.

Variety‘s William Triplett is reporting that the MPAA, “responding to years of criticism from child advocacy groups and health organization, announced Thursday it is expanding its current consideration of teen smoking to all smoking when evaluating and assigning a movie rating.”
“‘In the past, illegal teen smoking has been a factor in the rating of films, alongside other parental concerns such as sex, violence and adult language,’ the org said in a statement. ‘Now, all smoking will be considered and depictions that glamorize smoking or movies that feature pervasive smoking outside of an historic or other mitigating context may receive a higher rating.” Higher? Economically compromising, they mean.
This is almost akin to prohibition and will probably raise a stink among who make their living playing bad guys, but anything that cuts down on a truly offensive acting tendency is okay with me, even though the MPAA’s idea is on the dopey side.
The key MPAA declaration is that smoking in movies “outside of an historic or other mitigating context” will be more closely examined. But what’s an acceptable mitigating context? Smoking is a shorthand device for characters who are meant to be seen as outlaw-ish or anti-social. But what about an actress playing a middle-aged divorcee with self-destructive or low self-esteem issues? What about a nervous 15 year-old who’s trying to look cool in front of his friends. Thee are all kinds of characters who could light up in a valid way.

The last two and half days were so awful, and then this framed photo arrived via Fed Ex this afternoon. Talk about a radical mood swing and the kindness of strangers. An HE fan whom I don’t know saw that post three or four weeks ago about that damaged print of Jack Nicholson and got inspired and threw this together with a glass cover and a classy wood frame and everything. It’s now hanging on the den wall.

Thanks so much to everyone else who sent along cleaned-up JPEGs of the Jack shot, by the way. Sorry for not saying this earlier. This whole Jack-shot episode has been really beautiful.

I always thought of Las Vegas is a cool place to visit for about 24 hours, after which it starts to get old fast. But then along came the uptown, reconfigured, Trevor Groth-approved Cinevegas Film Festival and I started to amend that view. Seeing choice movies (some fresh out of the gate) and attending parties with fairly hot women every night makes it all go down easier.
There’s still something over-electrified and soul-frying about that town, and the only thing I used to really love about the casinos — the loud metallic clatter of silver dollars falling into the tray of the big slot machines — is gone now. And Vegas is horrible for walking anywhere, and the bus service is slow as snails. But Cinevegas (June 6th to 16th) is a better-than-okay festival for the most part, and sometimes a pretty good one. And then there’s hanging with Las Vegas Review Journal critic Carol Cling, which is always time well spent.
Steven Soderbergh‘s Ocean’s 13 (which I’ll be seeing in Cannes in about a week and a half, if not sooner) and John Dahl‘s You Kill Me are the opening night and closing night attractions.
√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ö‚ÄúCineVegas is a celebration of artists who lay it all on the line, who aren√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢t afraid to shatter conventions and defy expectation,” Groth says in the BWR press release. “From our world premieres of American independents and new Mexican films, which both consist of brave works by predominantly first and second-time filmmakers, the festival is a goldmine of talent waiting to be discovered.√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ǭù
The √ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ö‚ÄúJackpot Premieres√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ǭù are Robert Logevall√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢s All God√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢s Children Can Dance (world premiere), with Joan Chen; the Peter Spears’ comedy Careless (world premiere), starring Colin Hanks, Fran Kranz, Rachel Blanchard and Tony Shalhoub; Choose Connor (world premiere), a political drama starring Steven Weber and Alex Linz, directed by Luke Eberl; The Fifth Patient (world premiere); The Living Wake (world premiere) starring Jesse Eisenberg and Mike O√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢Connell in a dark comedy from director Sol Tryon…I’ll get into the rest down the road.
Cinevegas used to pretty much stick with its own premieres, but this year it has two new sections — “Diamond Discoveries√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ǭù (previously premiered new films available for U.S. distribution) and √ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ö‚ÄúSure Bets√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√Ǭù (upcoming films with U.S. distribution). A chance, in other words, to catch up with films one might have missed at other festivals or at regular pre-release screenings. Good move.

Doing time for 45 days is going to be the best thing that ever happened to Paris Hilton. I did a little time in L.A. County in the late ’70s for some unpaid parking tickets, and it sure as hell clears the clutter out of your head and leaves you with something that feels a lot like focus and fortitude. And if there’s anyone on the face of the planet who could use some of this more than Paris Hilton, I’d like to know who that is.
Jail is awful but if you can grim up and face it down, you come out feeling as if you’re a better and a somewhat stronger person. I only did three or four days so I don’t know about hard time. But I know enough about the sound of clanging steel doors to recognize the truth of a line that Dustin Hoffman said in Ulu Grosbard‘s Straight Time: “Outside it’s what you have in your pockets — inside it’s who you are.”
45 days in the pokey won’t be a walk in the park for a ditzoid like Paris Hilton, but if she’s smart she’ll read up about how Robert Mitchum handled his jail sentence in the late ’40s for marijuana possession. He did it quietly and didn’t squawk. He swept the floors, stayed out of trouble, took his medicine and had won everyone’s respect by the time he got out. I don’t think for a second that our very own empty- headed, barren-souled heiress has the character to “do a Mitchum,” but the most potentially profound spiritual experience of her so-far-useless life awaits nonetheless.
And there’s nothing like getting out of jail to make you feel like Jesus’ son. (Or Mary Magdelene‘s daughter.) It reminds you what a wonderful and blessed place the world outside is, and what a sublime thing trip it can be to walk around free and do whatever you want within the usual boundaries, and what a serene thing it is to be smiled at by strangers in stores and restaurants. People you wouldn’t give a second thought to suddenly seem like good samaritans because of some act of casual kindness.
Jail doesn’t just teach you about yourself but about your immediate circle. “If you want to know who your friends are,” Charles Bukowski once wrote, “get yourself a jail sentence.” Or go to a hospital. As foul and bullying as he often is, David Poland nonetheless called and left a get-well message when I had that systemic poisoning episode a few months ago. I’m just saying.

And so begins the rejuvenated, out-of-the-woods, post-hard drive crash, five-pounds-lighter-due-to-stress phase of Hollywood Elsewhere, with only five days to spare before the flight to Cannes. The new hard drive is installed, all the programs are re-installed and running, and pretty much everything is back to normal.
Before anything else I need to give a shout-out to Angelo Moratta, the guy who got me out of this mess more than anyone else. Angelo runs a shop about 50 miles north of Manhattan called Mindtrain Computer Services, and if you’re ever in any kind of serious dutch with your computer you need to call this guy, seriously. He’s got one of those great remote control hookup systems in which you let him see your computer screen and access everything in it, and it’s just like having a house call. Plus Angelo’s got a relaxed and gentle voice (with a slight New Yawk accent), and he never gets riled and always figures it out, whatever the issue is.
Never trust the Geek Squad, never trust the Geek Squad, never trust the Geek Squad. They’re nice guys and they know what they know, but they’re not smart all the way around the track and they charge too much and they take forever. Or the fairly smart guy you spoke to the day before is taking a day off and the other guy who’s half-acquainted with the situation doesn’t come in until 3 pm. Forget ’em, bad news, exasperation time.
The only problem now is that it’s pretty warm outside and fairly stuffy in here, and the Oscar-winning lease holder on this apartment removed the air-conditioner — the one I bought a couple of years ago from the second-hand guy down the street — and put it under a bunch of boxes in an overstuffed hall closet. Do I spend an hour hooking it up (i.e., buying an extension cord and electrical power strip, cutting out a precisely cut slab of cardboard to seal off the window, finding masking tape to make sure it’s nice and tight) or just get down to today’s column items? These are the choices and the terms….and it’s always something.

The Los Angeles Film Festival (6.21 through 7.1) will kick off with Kasi Lemmons‘ Talk to Me (Focus Features), the real-life story of Ralph Waldo “Petey” Greene (Don Cheadle), an ex-con who became a talk-radio personality in the 1960s in Washington, D.C., and close with Danny Boyle‘s Sunshine (Fox Searchlight), the mostly well-reviewed space-mission sci-fi adventure that’s already opened in Europe. I asked for a screening opportunity in L.A. since I’ll be able to catch it France or Italy at a commercial cinema later this month, but the Fox Searclighters didn’t want to show favoritism (or something along those lines). So I’ll pay to see it and run a reaction during the Cannes Film Festival, or maybe a little bit after.

Yesterday’s news: Michael Moore’s Sicko, the long-awaited health-care doc due to premiere in Cannes, will be released domestically on June 29th by Lionsgate. The Weinstein Company will handle marketing and publicity and cover all the p & a costs whiel Lionsgate, which handled the release of Farenheit 9/11, will book theatres and handle physical distribution. TWC will also handle international sales. How interested will European auds, who enjoy pretty good government-supported health care benefits, will be in an exploration of how ridiculously costly health care is over here? Your guess.

Ben Kingsley, Tea Leoni and Luke Wilson in the trailer for John Dahl‘s You Kill Me, which is automatically afforded exceptional interest due to the Dahl-Kingsley configuation.

Jon Favreau’s Iron Man, set for release by Paramount in May 2008, is an adaptation of Stan Lee‘s Marvel comic about “troubled” billionaire Tony Stark (Robert Downey) who’s forced to wear a “life-support suit” after a life-threatening accident, and thereafter turns this hindrance into a crime-fighting alter ego routine. (Sounds more or less like the same old Bruce Wayne shit, no?)
As some of you know, IESB posted video footage last Thursday of a guy (Downey?) in an Iron Man suit between takes in Long Beach. Yesterday Paramount attorney’s pressured IESB’s server to shut the shite down due ot perceived copyright infringement. Except it wasn’t quie that, and IESB editors Robert and Stephanie Sanchez hassled it out with Paramount and finally got the site up again this morning.
Here’s the IESB version of how it all went down:
“The IESB is back up and running. We want to thank everyone for their phone calls, emails and postings. We were just put back online around 8:00am after being shut down yesterday at 2:15pm Pacific.
“To answer everyone√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢s questions, yes, it is true [that] Paramount Pictures sent a letter to our hosting company demanding that our site be shut down immediately claiming copyright infringement from our spy video and images of the Iron Man set that are posted here.
“We were not notified in any way, or asked to take it down, we were literally in the middle of posting a story and all of a sudden our server was gone. We called our hosting company, they transferred us to legal and we were forwarded the letter that was sent from Paramount on Friday that demanded the site be shut down — a letter we were never sent and weren’t given any warning about.
“Here’s the kicker — the video and pictures that were in question, were IN NO WAY property of Paramount Pictures. Both were shot from a parking lot of a 24 Hour Fitness Center across the street from the Iron Man shoot that was taking place on a PUBLIC STREET in Long Beach CA. There was no violation of copyright whatsoever.
“After hours on the phone yesterday with Paramount reps (who had no clue about it) they completely apologized and said this should have never happened, it was the idiots in the Paramount legal department who did this without checking with anyone else. But, it was too late when they finally got a retraction together, the legal dept. at our hosting company was already closed and had gone home for the day and wouldn’t receive any of Paramount’s requests until the morning.
“So we just had to wait, and wait some more. We lost traffic, we lost respect for the studio, we lost out financially and most importantly it was just really a blow to our reputation.
“Without even asking, the online community posted and supported us through the entire ordeal. Everyone’s sentiments and support are very much appreciated.
“We need to say thanks to our online colleagues, LatinoReview, TheMovieBlog, Ropeofsilicon, Collider, FilmStalker, Ain√ɬ¢√¢‚Äö¬¨√¢‚Äû¬¢t It Cool News, Obsessedwithfilm, Firstshowing, Film.com, Cinema Blend, Cinematical and the many others who posted or sent in kind words of support. Thanks guys!
“Robert Sanchez and Stephanie Sanchez and the entire IESB team.”

A special edition DVD of Alfred Hitchcock‘s To Catch a Thief came out today — special because it was mastered, for the first time, from the original VistaVision elements, which means more visual detail and fullness of color. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. Paramount Home Video put out an okay-looking Thief DVD about six or seven years that provided the matted 1.85 to 1 aspect ratio of VistaVision, but without the visual splendor. Thief cinematographer Robert Burks won an Oscar for his efforts. Some of the film — okay, a fair amount of it — is engrossing as far as it goes, but among Hitch’s glorious 1950s films, it’s easily his least substantial. That’s not a problem, but it’s mainly pleasurable for a kind of elegant-lull quality — the look, the framing, Cary Grant‘s mild-mannered performance, the easy-does-it vibe, the occasionally awesome editing. Not the “all” of it as much as the way it all kind of goes down like a swallow of champagne on a warm summer’s night on the Riviera. The way it mostly breezes along without any noticable sense of urgency.

20 minutes to go until the cyber cafe closes. Why can’t they stay open until midnight? 19 minutes now. It’s an Australian place — it’s called Tuck Shop — and it doesn’t feel spirtually or geographically in character for a down-under establishment to close early. I’ve never known an Australian guy to not stay at a party until the wee hours or not close a bar down. I’ve just wasted another five minutes — 14 minutes to go.