I guess in some bizarre corner of my mind I wanted Bjorn Andresen, the teenaged lust object in Luchino Visconti‘s Death in Venice (’71), to stay the same, like a statue of some kind. I felt gutslammed when I read this morning that he was doddering old geezer who jumped to his death in Midsommar.

I’d be grateful if someone could please send me (a) a PDF of Eric Roth‘s Killers of the Flower Moon, which is Martin Scorsese‘s next project (and which will costar Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro); and (b) a PDF of Noah Baumbach‘s Marriage Story. Thank you. No worries.

In a 7.31 interview with Indiewire‘s Kate Erbland, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood costar Margaret Qualley explains her preparation for playing “Pussycat,” a Manson family member. The 24 year-old actress tells Erbland that director-screenwriter Quentin Tarantino “loaded [her] up with some rare Manson Family documentaries — ‘very strange ones that you can’t find yourself’ — from his own DVD collection.”

Then comes the stunner: In a parenthetical, Erbland states that “Qualley had to buy a DVD player just to watch them.”

First, who would buy a DVD player? The thing to get, obviously, would be a Bluray player (they all play DVDs) with streaming options. But the bigger question is, who doesn’t own a player of some kind to begin with?

I understand an actress in her mid 20s not owning physical media and just streaming this or that when the mood strikes. But everybody in the world has a remote player that streams stuff…right? Yes, I realize that most 1080 and 4K TVs come with streaming apps but only a couple…right? And they don’t allow users to add apps, or so I understand.

It just seems weird that an actress wouldn’t own a disc player of some kind. Role preparation these days always involves looking at classic or cult films with stand-out performances, and that almost always means watching DVDs or Blurays that a director has urged an actor to watch.

For this reason alone, an actor not owning a disc player is almost like a baseball player not owning a mitt. Not to mention the Movie Catholicism aspect. If you’re an actor of any sincerity you have to be a believer in the Church of Cinema, which means you have to care enough about image quality and having the right film-fanatic apps (Criterion Channel) and the freedom and wherewithal to pop in an occasional classic disc. If you’re an Orthodox Jew you keep a yamaka (or kippa) in your bedroom bureau. It goes with the faith.

No one remembers or cares about Carol Reed‘s The Running Man, but the poster reminds that there’s nothing worse than for a lead actor known for a full head of intensely dark hair to suddenly dye it blonde.

Some actors have gotten away with this, I suppose, but it was certainly a terrible thing for Laurence Harvey to have done.

Yeah, I know…Laurence who? The poor man died 46 years ago, but he really had the lightning for a six-year period. His hot streak began with Room at the Top (’59) and continued with Expresso Bongo, The Alamo, Butterfield 8, Summer and Smoke, Walk on the Wild Side, The Manchurian Candidate, The Running Man (which wasn’t half bad if you ignored Harvey’s dye job), Of Human Bondage, Darling, The Outrage and Life at the Top (’65). His career didn’t die from that point on but it sort of withered. The fire began to flicker, and the quality of his films declined.

Wiki excerpt: “A heavy smoker and drinker, Harvey died at the age of 45 from stomach cancer in Hampstead, London, on Sunday, 11.25.73. His daughter Domino, who later became a bounty hunter, was only four years old at the time; she died at age 35 in 2005 after overdosing on painkillers. They are buried together in Santa Barbara Cemetery in Santa Barbara, California.”

Born in Lithuania in 1928, Harvey’s given name was Laruschka Mischa Skikne.

Brad Pitt is the Once Upon A Time in Hollywood guy who deserves an Oscar nomination. Supporting, of course. Because his Cliff Booth is Mr. Cool and because, unlike Leo, Pitt doesn’t strenuously “act” all over the place. (Plus he doesn’t talk like Clem Kadiddlehopper.) He just is.

Was Pitt 10 to 12 times better in Moneyball? Yeah, but Billy Beane was a better written role. But this is Pitt’s moment…right here, right now. age 55, summer of ’19, prime of his life.

I’m not saying Pitt would necessarily win, but not nominating him would be, in my view, unconscionable. Because he da man.

Paul Schrader suggested this last night, and I agree. Key phrase: “When I mentioned the pantheon I didn’t mean the great actors. I meant the GODS.”

Obviously a lot will change after the top four fall festivals weigh in — Venice, Telluride, Toronto, New York. This is the last HE assessment before those festivals unspool.

Likely upsetters to come: Martin Scorsese‘s The Irishman, Noah Baumbach‘s Marriage Story, Marielle Heller‘s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Tom Harper‘s The Aeronauts, Steven Soderbergh‘s The Laundromat, Fernando Mereilles‘ The Two Popes, Edward Norton‘s Motherless Brooklyn, Todd Phillips‘ Joker, Pablo Larrain‘s Ema, James Mangold‘s Ford v Ferrari, etc.

1. Kent Jones‘ Diane / “All Hail Diane — 2019’s Best Film So Far“, filed on 3.27.19.

2. Lulu Wang‘s The Farewell / “The Farewell Is Among Year’s Best,” filed on 7.3.19.

3. Robert Eggers‘ The Lighthouse / “This Way Lies Madness,” filed on 5.19.19.

4. Craig Zahler‘s Dragged Across Concrete / “All Hail Dragged Across Concrete,” filed on 3.21.19.

5. FX’s Fosse/Verdon / “Fosse/Verdon — Theatrical, Exquisite, Pizazzy, Deep Blue,” filed on 4.25.19.

6. A.J. Eaton and Cameron Crowe‘s David Crosby: Remember My Name / “Crosby Doc Hurts Real Good,” filed on 1.27.19.

7. Quentin Tarantino‘s Once Upon A Time in Hollywood / “Once Upon A Time in Hollywood Is…‘, filed on 5.21.19.

8. Russo Brothers‘ Avengers: Endgame / “Okay With Nominating Endgame For Best Picture Oscar,” filed on 5.4.19.

9. Ari Aster‘s Midsommar / “Midsommar Inevitability,” filed on 6.25.19.

10. Martin Scorsese‘s Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story / “Rolling Along With Scorsese/Dylan” filed on 6.10.19.

12. Olivia Wilde‘s Booksmart / “This Time SXSW Hype Was Genuine“, filed on 4.25.19.

13. Celine Sciamma‘s Portrait of a Lady on Fire / “By my sights as close to perfect as a gently erotic, deeply passionate period drama could be,” excepted from “Midnight Panini,” filed on 5.21.19.

14. Dan Reed‘s Leaving Neverland / “After Tomorrow, Jackson’s Name Will Be Mud“, filed on 3.2.19.

15. Mads Brugger‘s Cold Case Hammarskjöld / “Riveting, Occasionally Oddball Cold Case”, posted on 1.29.19.

I somehow missed the recent intel about Steven Soderbergh‘s The Laundromat being a comedy. Okay, but hold a sec. Soderbergh might have made a quietly hilarious satire in his usual underplayed or deadpan sense (I’ve been told that the “s” word definitely applies), but he doesn’t do hah-hah comedy. Or at least, not the bottom-feeder kind. He never has. This doesn’t mean his comic material or attitude isn’t funny — it’s just not aimed at your Melissa McCarthy megaplex crowd.

Example: Out of Sight was often funny as shit, but it never put on a red Clarabelle the Clown nose and squirted seltzer water. Remember when Dennis Farina chided Michael Keaton‘s Ray Nicolette for wearing an FBI T-shirt — “Hey, Ray, do you have a T-shirt that says ‘undercover‘?” I laughed at that line for days but it probably went over a lot of heads. Remember when that fat guy slipped on the stairs and accidentally shot himself in the head? A shocking moment, but kind of “funny” in a dry Soderberghian way.

Meryl Streep as Ellen Martin in Steven Soderbergh’s The Laundromat.

Wiki boilerplate: “Plot follows Ellen Martin (Meryl Streep), whose dream vacation takes a wrong turn and leads her down a rabbit hole of shady dealings that can all be traced to one Panama City law firm, run by seductive partners Jürgen Mossack (Gary Oldman) and Ramón Fonseca (Antonio Banderas).

“She soon learns that her minor predicament is only a drop in the bucket, one of millions of files linking an off-shore tax scheme to the world’s richest and most powerful political leaders.”

The titular term refers to Mossack Fonseca, a Panamanian law firm and corporate service provider. The umbrella term for the scandal was and is the Panama papers.

Update: In the midst of horrific World War I battle, a British soldier is ordered to deliver a message to commanders of a neighboring battalion to call off a planned attack. If the message isn’t delivered, 1600 men will die. (Remember Mark Lee‘s Archy Hamilton in Gallipoli? Also a messenger.) The above-mentioned soldier is so ordered, apparently, because his brother is a member of this battalion. Do I understand no one else is willing to deliver the message because the mission seems suicidal? But since when is soldiering a matter of willingness? If I was an officer looking to save 1600 men I would send three messengers, which would increase the odds of at least one getting through.

Previous: A trailer for Sam Mendes‘ 1917 (Universal 12.25), which has been described as “Birdman meets the carnage of World War I”, surfaced today.

Co-written by Mendes and Krysty Wilson-Cairns, 1917 will follow “two young soldiers” — George MacKay‘s Schofield and Dean-Charles Chapman‘s “Blake” — as they struggle to survive the bullets, shrapnel and generally harsh conditions. Costarring Colin Firth, Mark Strong, Benedict Cumberbatch, Richard Madden and Andrew Scott.

Pic has allegedly been shot as one long continuous take by the great Roger Deakins, hence the Birdman analogy. 1:30 pm Update: Apparently not so much.

Filming began on 4.1.19, and ended only about ten days ago, I’ve read. Filming mostly happened in Wiltshire, Hankley Common and Govan, Scotland, as well as at Shepperton Studios.

The purpose of the trailer, obviously, is to say “hey, Academy members and award-season handicappers, don’t forget that we’ll be in the Best Picture race as much as anyone else, even though we won’t open until Christmas….save the date!”

Mendes has been on hiatus from the auteurist heavy-hitter award-seeking game for just over a decade. Revolutionary Road (’08) was his last would-be Best Picture contender. (I’m sorry but Away We Go didn’t count.) Twice over the last seven years Mendes became a Bond director for hire — on Skyfall (’12) and then Spectre (’15).

Stanley Kubrick‘s Paths of Glory, which opened 62 years ago, is still the high-water mark for intense, you-are-there World War I verisimiitude. 1917 will have to beat Kubrick’s attack-on-the-anthill sequence, and if it doesn’t it’ll be rough sledding. I’m just being honest.

I feel frustrated and resentful every time I arrange Los Angeles-to-Telluride travel. The 46th annual festival runs from Friday, 8.30 thru Monday, 9.2. I always fly to Durango, but the cost of getting from Durango-LaPlata Airport to Telluride always seems excessive. There’s no economical shuttle option. The best four-day rental car deal for a midsize four-door (including minimal insurance and gas, leaving from Durango on the afternoon of Thursday, 8.29) is around $350, and around $400 if your rental time stretches to four and a half days.

You’re basically paying $175 to $200 to drive from Durango to Telluride and then another $175 to $200 to drive back. A distance of 72.94 miles that takes 153 minutes. Once in Telluride the rental car just sits in a parking lot until you leave. I’m sorry but I get irritable when overcharged.

For a Durango-to-Telluride round trip, the private shuttle services (Telluride.com, Buckhorn Limousine, Telluride Express, even Uber) charge $550 to $600 round-trip, or more. One service claims to offer a $95 one-way fee, but that’s only if your shuttle is booked with at least four other passengers. Gougers, all. Drooling dog saliva.

The best HE option would be to share car rental and gas costs with a Telluride pass holder who’s also flying to Durango on Thursday, 8.29. So I’m asking here and now if a person or two would like to split expenses. Or, reversing the situation, if you already have a Durango car rental how about accepting a passenger who will share costs?

Last year I drove all the way from Los Angeles to Telluride and back with Variety‘s Chris Willman. A fun, scenic trip. Visited Monument Valley and everything. Sasha Stone is also driving this year with her usual troupe (two friends and her two dogs).

There are no blazing rockstars among the Democratic contenders. Well, there’s Pete Buttigieg but mule-headed black voters are determined to shut him down. So we’re left with Typewriter Joe, Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders and/or Kamala Harris. Biden would probably beat Trump in the general (hoping!), but what a deflating, depressing thing that would be. Who would honestly rejoice about electing a nearly-80-year-old, indebted-to-yesteryear gaffe machine?

Michael Moore is right: Michelle Obama would destroy Donald Trump. She could save this country from itself, and she won’t even consider it. A shame.

From Paul Schrader’s Facebook: “This signed photo (I believe it’s from the Harry Ransom archives) captures a moment in male Hollywood identity. Marty and I (counter-culturalists to the core) appear at a New Years Eve party [12.31.73] at Michael and Julia Phillips’ Malibu house in three-piece suits. All our friends are hippies, yet here we are. We wanted to be grownups. Our cultural DNA. What filmmaker today wants to be a grownup? Why am I so much taller? [Because] I’m wearing platform shoes. Those were the times.”

Mean Streets had opened a couple of months earlier. Scorsese was beginning work on Alice Doesn’t Live Here Any More, which shot in the late winter or early spring of ’74 and opened on 12.9.74. Schrader and his brother Leonard would soon begin work on The Yakuza. Their script sold for $325,000. I’ve forgotten when Schrader wrote Taxi Driver, but it was during a down-and-out period (Schrader had broken up with a girlfriend, had been living in his car) and sometime before this photo was taken. I think. I need to bone up.

According to Elle.com’s Alyssa Bailey, “Lady Gaga‘s photographed kiss with her audio engineer Dan Horton wasn’t just a public declaration of their really new romance; it was also her way of definitively shutting down tabloid rumors that she and her A Star Is Born co-star Bradley Cooper could become romantically involved now that he and his girlfriend of four years, Irina Shayk, are no longer dating.

“Entertainment Tonight was told by a source close to the singer that Gaga is done letting that talk circulate. “All the talk of Bradley was all in fun, [but] she’s ready to dispel those rumors once and for all,” the E.T. source said.”

Earlier this month a producer who’s been around and gets around told me that for what it was worth she believed the talk about Bradley and Lady Gaga being a couple, “otherwise Irina would not have walked out [on him]. And they are going to deny it because it makes both of them look like home busters. Bad for their images. People already think he’s too full of himself.”

Apparently “no one” is surprised that Gaga is “dating Horton now,” Bailey has written. “She likes to date men on her team…she is known as a workaholic, so it fits her lifestyle to meet someone while working.”

If I was Gaga or in fact any intriguing woman, I would never become romantically entwined with a guy who wears a “Hitler Youth” haircut — surely one of the ugliest style trends to happen to urban hipster males since the turn of the century. Undercuts have been happening for at least five years now. One of the first acknowledgments happened when Jezebel‘s Kate Dries posted “Every Dude You Know Is Getting This Haircut” on 4.16.14. I didn’t mention it until a year later (“Surrounded by Hitler Youth“).

Oh, to look like Heinrich Himmler while roaming around WeHo on the rumble-hog! No, actually…forget it.