Michael O’Donoghue‘s Mr. Mike’s Mondo Video, which I saw once back in ’79, is only sporadically funny if that, not to mention technically coarse and splotchy. But the eagerness to offend is damn near breathtaking.

The written prologue or mock warning starts at the :30 second mark — please read it. There were no lefty sensitivity wackos around during the waning days of the Carter administration, of course, but imagining how today’s wokeys might react is, well, pleasurable.

Yesterday director and cinematographer Sareesh Sudhakaran (@wolfcrow) posted a super knowledgable, highly perceptive appreciation of the tech aspects of William Wyler‘s Ben-Hur (59). Lasting 11 minutes and eight seconds, YouTube tutorials don’t get much better than this.

I’m pretty much resigned to the sad fact that Ben-Hur will never again be theatrically screened at the full Camera 65 aspect ratio — 2.76:1.

“I Live for Ben-Hur Disappointments,” posted on 9.9.16: “It’s common knowledge that William Wyler‘s Ben-Hur (’59) was shot in Camera 65, which when correctly projected (as well as scanned for DVD and Bluray) delivered an aspect ratio of 2.76:1. (Same a.r. with Ultra Panavision 70, which The Hateful Eight was shot and projected at.) All my adult life I’ve been looking to see the full-whack, 2.76:1 Ben-Hur in a first-rate theatrical venue.

“My hopes were up when I attended last night’s 7:30 pm screening of Ben-Hur at the American Cinematheque Egyptian. I was encouraged by the fact that the AC was showing a DCP, or the same digitally remastered version that constitutes the current Bluray, which delivers the full 2.76:1. But they blew it all the same. The AC aspect ratio was, at most, 2.55:1, and it was probably closer to 2.4:1. And therefore each shot felt slightly cramped and wrong.

“Robert Surtees‘ 2.76:1 images on the Ben-Hur Bluray are immaculate — the framings in each and every scene are exquisitely balanced. But whack those images down to 2.4:1 and everything looks fucked. If Surtees had been with me he would have been hooting and throwing soft-drink containers at the screen.

“The same aspect ratio problems manifested when I caught Ben-Hur at the New York Film Festival in 2011, to wit:

“Excerpt: ‘The fabled 2.76 to 1 aspect ratio was not delivered. It looked to me like we were seeing roughly a 2.55 to 1 image, at best. There’s a shot with Hugh Griffith and the four white horses when Heston enters from the left and says ‘What magnificent animals’ or words to that effect. I knew right away what I saw wasn’t right because Heston was slightly cropped off as he said this line — he didn’t have any breathing room — and you NEVER crop a star.'”

Does anyone even remember Robert DeNiro‘s The Good Shepherd (’06), a somber, dialogue-driven spy flick which made decent coin ($100 million) but ran too long (167 minutes) and felt like a downer to pretty much everyone?

Loosely based on the life of legendary cold-war spook James Jesus Angleton, pic was directed by De Niro from a script by Eric Roth.

The vibes between Matt Damon (as Angleton stand-in Edward Wilson) and Angelina Jolie were utterly miserable, and audiences sank into the swamp with them.

The costars included Alec Baldwin, Tammy Blanchard, Billy Crudup, Keir Dullea, Martina Gedeck, William Hurt and Timothy Hutton. Grim stuff, man.

After my second viewing at the Zeigfeld theatre in December ’06, I told a director friend that Shepherd didn’t play any differently — it was still muted, somber and funereal.

He replied as follows: “I liked it, actually. That said, ‘funereal’, although not the word I would personally choose to describe it, is accurate. It has a funereal atmosphere, almost aggressively so.

“What I liked [about it] is that it doesn’t pander in any way. It almost defies you to like it.

“You’re sitting there saying ‘what is this shit?…you haven’t made me interested in the story or care about the characters, and it’s very easy to get out [of the movie] if you want to do that…it doesn’t deploy the strategies that almost all movies do to bring you in and engage your sympathies. And I respected that.”

A film that “almost defies you to like it”….funny but interesting. HE to readership: Please name other films (reasonably good ones, I mean) whose directors didn’t seem to care if audiences found them engrossing or not. You have to respect that kind of ballsiness. Directors to audiences: “You don’t like my movie? Well, I don’t like you either!”

Todd McCarthy’s 12.10.06 review:

“The birth of the CIA and the life journey of one of its founding operatives is a fascinating subject, [but] one that is done only lukewarm justice in The Good Shepherd,” writes Variety‘s Todd McCarthy.

I can guess what the HE readership is thinking as they read this — give us rude, disturbing, irreverent, provocative or even gross….but please, please not lukewarm.

“Robert De Niro‘s second film as a director adopts a methodical approach and deliberate pace,” McCarthy continues, “in attempting to grasp an almost forbiddingly intricate subject, with a result that is not boring, exactly, but undeniably tedious.

“The long and short of the problem is that [De Niro] never finds a proper rhythm to allow the viewer to settle comfortably into what turns out to be a very long voyage. Like many films of the moment, this one keeps jumping around in time, not confusingly in the least, but in a way that has no natural flow to it. Tie that to a central character who defiantly offers no glimpse into his inner life and you have a picture that offers scant returns for the investment of time it requests of the viewer.

“Crucially missing is slowly building momentum, a firm hand on pace, a way to convey gradual moral decay and a talent for magisterial storytelling — gifts that are impossible to fake in the long run.

“Seemingly based in great measure on the ever-intriguing James Angleton, Matt Damon‘s Edward Wilson remains an opaque, impenetrable figure throughout, and neither actor nor script provides the subtext to reveal any layers of personality.

The word around the campfire is that Gregg Araki‘s I Want Your Sex, an erotically provocative “thriller” of some sort (although I can pretty much guarantee that “thriller” doesn’t apply…not in the sense that most of us understand the term…not from Araki)…the buzz says that Araki’s film will play in Cannes next month, although not in competition.

Araki has allegedly said that his goal is to “bring back sex to the big screen”, but dear God in heaven, not with the ginger-haired, pig-eyed Cooper Hoffman in the lead male role opposite Olivia Wilde….no!

In the realm of a sexual something-or-other souffle, Wilde, Charli XCX, Daveed Diggs, Mason Gooding, Chase Sui Wonders, Johnny Knoxville, Margaret Cho and Roxane Mesquida are totally fine. Just no pudgebods with alabaster skin. I’m fucking serious.

I am honestly more terrified of Araki’s film than Paul Mescal‘s latest gay film, The History of Sound, which may (emphasis on that word) turn up in Cannes also.

World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy is hearing that other sans competition titles may be Richard Linklater’s Nouvelle Vague, Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest (Spike wants to be in competition!), Andrew Dominik’s Bono: Stories of Surrender, Trey Edward Shults’ Hurry Up Tomorrow.

Despite that 3.31 Parisien report suggestintg that Luca Guadagnino‘s After The Hunt might debut in Cannes, the submission decision is up to Amazon marketing, I’m told, and publicists are generally terrified of Cannes so calculate the probability.

Will Terrence “wackazoid” Malick‘s The Way of the Wind snag a competition slot? Why would Malick break his six-year editing streak?

Safer bets include Ari Aster‘s Eddington, Jim Jarmusch‘s Father Brother Sister Mother, Wes Anderson‘s The Phoenician Scheme and Kelly Reichardt‘s The Mastermind.

If you tell me you didn’t find this Criterion “closet picks” video of Amy Irving a bit startling when you first glanced at it, you are a liar.

I’m not saying Irving looks unduly withered or in any way unattractive — by way of a certain inner radiance she actually looks and sounds great — but my God, the Carrie costar is only 71. It’s one thing for 92 year-old Ellen Burstyn to be entirely white-haired but Irving…this feels unsettling. Then again Bill Murray has snow-colored hair and he’s only three years older than Irving.

“As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will [attain] their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.” ― H.L. Mencken, “On Politics: A Carnival of Buncombe“.

Buncome or “bunkum” is apparently the original term from which “bunk” was derived.

On the evening of Tuesday, May 13, Robert De Niro will receive an honorary Palme d’Or (gold watch, lifetime achievement) at the opening ceremony of the 78th Cannes Film Festival.

The ceremony (which I may not be able to attend as I’ll only be checking into the pad that afternoon) will omit the fact that quality-wise DeNiro’s career slowed down in the 21st Century, and that over the last quarter-century he’s starred or costarred in only four blue-chip, award-worthy films — David O. Russell‘s Silver Linings Playbook (’12, Nancy Meyers‘ The Intern (’15), Todd Phillips‘ Joker (’19) and Martin Scorsese‘s The Irishman (’19).

He was excellent in Playbook, very good in the middle two, and magnificent in the sprawling Scorsese epic.

But DeNiro’s 20th Century hot streak was historic. He enjoyed a brilliant 27-year run between Bang The Drum Slowly (’73) and Meet the Parents (’00). One winner after another, especially during the first decade — Drum, Mean Streets (’73), The Godfather Part II (’74) Taxi Driver (’76), 1900 (’76), The Deer Hunter (’78…didn’t like it), Raging Bull (’80).

And then came a second hot streak in the ’90s — Goodfellas (’90), Awakenings (ditto), Cape Fear (’91….didn’t like it), Mad Dog and Glory (’93….ace-level, character-driven dramedy), This Boy’s Life (’93), A Bronx Tale (’93), Casino (’95), the magnificent Heat (’95), Jackie Brown (’97), Wag the Dog (’97), Ronin (’97) and Analyze This (’99…the second gangster-goes-to-professional-therapist enterprise that year).

27 or 28 gold-medal winners in the 20th Century, and four in the 21st.

But if DeNiro had quit acting after Raging Bull, he would still deserve a career-achievement award. Anyone familiar with that famous wailing jail-cell scene knows the name of that tune. A crude and bestial man experiencing the absolute nadir of his bruising (and bruise-dispensing) life…his explosive feelings of absolute and overpowering self-loathing…this horrific episode results, for viewers, in something oddly cleansing and almost therapeutic.

This was DeNiro’s all-time peak moment…the kind of bravura acting moment that only a young or youngish fellow can capture or deliver.

With an estimated budget of $400 million, Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning (Paramount, 5.23) is…you tell me. The same old same old, of course, but the trailer is too fast and frenzied for my taste. The first half is like an M:I greatest hits reel, and the second half is poppity-pop-pop…aaaggghh!…helter skelter stuff.

It’s good to see Holt McCallany as the Secretary of Defense, and I’m not scared of Nick Offerman this time as I’m fairly certain we won’t have to watch him step out of a bathroom wearing a bath towel or, you know, get blown by a bear.

Which 60something black actor is fatter or spends more time sitting down than Ving Rhames? I’m asking.

Two little biplanes…one red, one yellow, both freshly painted. Very handsome.

My favorite shot, seriously, is the one of Tom Cruise leaping out of a chopper and falling into choppy seas.

Final Reckoning is going to have to come up with something pretty hairy to top the dangling train-car finale from the last one.

4:45 pm update: I’ve just been informed by none other than Wes Anderson that The Phoenician Scheme (Focus Features, 5.30.25) will be presented with an aspect ratio of 1.5:1…and not 1.66:1, as I erroneously presumed and posted earlier today.

Is there any living filmmaker who is more of an instantly recognizable signature stylist than Wes Anderson?

I’ve been using the term “WesWorld” for a good 20 plus years, and there isn’t a soul on the planet earth who doesn’t know what means. And yet two years ago, Wes was quoted as saying…

All but locked for Cannes, The Phoenician Scheme opens stateside on 5.30.25.

HE’s GoFundMe reboot reached a comfort–level goal as of late yesterday, and I’m once again thanking those who stepped up…bottom of my heart.

Repeating: Several White Lotus SPOILERS will follow…trust me!

The vaguely pear-shaped Sam Rockwell needs to slim down, no offense. Or at least not do any underwear scenes. Just saying.

Natasha Rothwell‘s Belinda Lindsey is too stupid to run her own business. Dumb as a rock. Thank God for her son, Zion — the smart, plain-spoken Nicholas Duvernay. The boy’s got a head for business.

No catharsis for Parker Posey! No nothin’, in fact. Except, maybe, a job at Wal-Mart when she gets back home.

The three girls deciding to be “happy together” like the Turtles is bullshit…total bullshit.

I’m glad that Sam Nivola‘s Lochlan Ratliff has had a mystical experience of some kind. Nearly meeting your maker (or, you know, nearly kissin’ the eternal) will do that.

I somehow never realized Scott Glenn‘s ears were as big as they looked tonight. The real Robert Evans: “When you get older your teeth get smaller, your nose gets bigger, your ears get longer and your dick shrivels unless you take Cialis. And women don’t want to fuck you as much, or at all.” Oh, and Glenn/Jim is somebody’s father (last-minute surprise!).

The last shot of Walton Goggins‘ Rick Hatchett — his face — is a portrait of serenity and acceptance, so at least there’s that. Not so much Aimee Lou Wood‘s Chelsea, but them’s the breaks.

Jason Isaacs‘ Tim Ratliff damn near Jonestowned himself, his wife, daughter and older son, and then his blender concoction came thisclose to killing his younger son, and suddenly he’s at peace with himself? Now he’s finally ready to tell the truth and face the FBI? His entire family will quickly put two and two together, of course, and realize he nearly murdered them all…he’ll never have their love or trust again. Ever. Obviously.

Lalisa Manobal‘s “Mook” Sornsin to Tayme Thapthimthong‘s Gaitok, the pathetically wimpy security staffer: “My hero with a gun!! Because you’ve killed, I love you.”

Bodies! Bodies! Five bodies!

And all the White Lotus luxury spas are going to experience a decline in business, I’m afraid.

Hugs and condolences to the fans, friends and colleagues of Jay North, star of TV’s Dennis the Menace series (1959-1963), who’s passed from colon cancer at age 73.

North felt miserable and mistreated during filming on the series. He totally spilled the beans about this when John Hughes‘ Dennis the Menace movie opened in ’93.

The series was never funny, of course, but Walter Matthau‘s bathroom-agony scene in the film was and is hilarious.