If you have a spare 50 minutes, please watch last night’s Adam Driver interview at the Santa Barbara Film Festival. Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson asked the right succinct questions and stayed out of the way for the most part, allowing the Marriage Story star and Best Actor nominee to dispense his dry, amusingly honest, occasionally self-deprecating patter.

I was sitting in the third row and realizing that I’d never really paid attention to Driver’s interview shtick and muttering “wow, great stuff…he’s so smart and fleet and hip to the bullshit.”

The easiest way is to just watch Driver in action, but if you insist on a description…okay, here goes. He’s a brilliant raconteur. He’s also a clever and darting conversationalist, almost on the level of a stand-up comedian. He constantly digresses and frequently re-defines what he’s saying, and I mean in a way that’s very off-handed and matter-of-fact and quite funny.

Sample Driver riff, imagined by HE: “The guy looked like a walrus with long brown whiskers and the body of an under-inflated beach ball…well, not a beach ball exactly but he had what anyone would describe as exercise and dietary issues…well, I don’t really know what his diet is but if you told me he eats nothing but pasta and banana cream pies and pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream I wouldn’t be surprised…okay, maybe surprised as I don’t believe anyone could stay alive after eating that crap day after day but either way he looks like Mr. Creosote…I hope I never look that way.” **

No questions about “Please Mr. Kennedy” — too familiar, over-discussed.

I don’t care what Driver says about Kylo Ren. Trust me, he doesn’t miss him a bit. He likes the money but that’s par for the course.

Marriage Story costar Scarlett Johansson (aka “ScarJo”) was also supposed to sit down with Thompson, but she bailed at the last minute. She was in Santa Barbara yesterday afternoon, staying with b.f. Colin Jost at the five-star Miramar but became “violently ill” around dinner hour.

Whatever actually happened is her business, but I’m generally suspicious of people who use the term “violently ill.” It’s overly dramatic. Sounds like they’re trying too hard. I’ve been ill from time to time, but never “violently” ill. What is that anyway? You’re so ill you start turning over tables and slugging people?

I tried to file yesterday afternoon about Thursday night’s Renee Zellweger tribute, but I fell behind. She’s a very skilled performer in all senses of that term, social included. She’s unfailingly demure, gracious, low-key but always with a chuckle or a quip. She has the Best Actress Oscar in the bag so it’s all smooth sliding at this point. THR‘s Scott Feinberg handled the interview like a pro.

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Vikings-inspired tapestry on second floor of Santa Barbara Inn. Do you think anyone involved with this hotel has ever had the first clue about historic tapestries? Or remembers or even cares about the opening credits for Richard Fleischer‘s 1958 film? Only people like me notice this stuff.

After 85 years, there ain’t no more “Fox” in 20th Century Fox. It’s been retired by Disney, presumably because they don’t like the Fox News/Rupert Murdoch association. Disney’s de-balled name for the once-proud, self-branded company is now 20th Century Studios.

20th Century Fox Film Corporation was formed in 1935 or thereabouts when Joseph Schenck and Darryl F. Zanuck left United Artists over a stock dispute and merged with Fox Film, under president Sidney Kent. What breaks everyone’s heart is that you can no longer say “Fox studios” or “the Fox lot”, and that Jim Morrison‘s “20th Century fox” will no longer have that ring, that coolness. Morrison, Daryl F. and Richard Zanuck, Spyros Skouras, Alan Ladd, Jr., the whole Fox gang…almost all dead and gone along with that three-letter name.

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Is it okay to fat-snicker at an ISIS psychopath, or is it verboten no matter what, who or whatever? I suspect it’s the latter option. I’m nonetheless going to confess something that may provoke punitive measures from the wokester Khmer Rouge, or at least some form of pushback.

My confession is that I had my first good laugh today from today’s [1.17.20] New York Post story, written by the eloquent Yaron Steinbuch.

“He put the fat in fatwa.

“A morbidly obese ISIS fanatic dubbed ‘Jabba the Jihadi‘ has been captured by Iraqi forces, who loaded him onto a flatbed truck because he couldn’t fit in a police car.

The 560-pound mufti Abu Abdul Bari, also known as Shifa al-Nima, was nabbed Thursday by an elite SWAT team of the Nineveh regiment in the city of Mosul, according to Stars and Stripes.

“The jumbo jihadist was known for ‘provocative speeches against the security forces” and is considered one of the top leaders of ‘ISIS gangs,’ Iraqi security officials said in a statement.”

Part 2 of America’s Great Divide (PBS Frontline) is instant history, the last three-plus years, spelled out plain and with all appropriate glumness. Nothing new but I submitted to the depression for 75 minutes, and I’ll probably return to it later tonight or tomorrow.

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In a promotional event for Hulu’s Hillary, Hillary Clinton to Television Critics Association: “It’s going to be up to every voter, not only people who vote in Democratic primaries, to recognize this is no ordinary time. This is an election that will have such profound impact. So take your vote seriously, and for the Democratic voters, try to vote for the person you think is most likely to win because at the end of the day, that is what will matter. And not just the popular vote, but the Electoral College, as we’ve learned.”

In other words, everyone should shake off their favorites and join the tens of millions of African Americans who are irrevocably glued to Typewriter Joe.

I hate the way this is going. It’s so dispiriting. Long slow downswirl.

Yesterday the Trumpies announced federal measures “aimed at protecting religious freedom and reducing discrimination against people and groups of faith”…bullshit. Trump just wants to stem any possible thinning of support among evangelicals in the wake of Christianity Today‘s Mark Galli recently calling for Trump’s removal from office and urging rightwing religious nutters not to support him.

In line with the protection con, Trump has claimed that “there’s a growing totalitarian impulse on the far left that seeks to punish, restrict and even prohibit religious expression.” Wrong — there’s a growing conviction among mainstream lefties that evangelicals’ support of The Beast is beyond despicable. In light of this and in honor of Woody Allen, HE reiterates that if Jesus were to return to earth and see what is going on in his name, he would never stop throwing up.

The Santa Barbara Inn is a very elegant and beautiful establishment, but their TVs have an agenda. Since arriving two days ago I’ve been watching MSNBC and TCM (mostly as white-noise while writing). But every time I turn the set on it defaults to Fox News. Five or six times so far. Obviously by design. If I was running the place I would instruct the sets to default to C-SPAN or something in that neutral vein. It’s heinous to gently suggest to guests that they might want to start their tube-watching day with Trump state television.

Posted four years ago from Santa Barbara Film Festival: I don’t like mingling with hotel guests or staff. If I run into one I’ll turn on the pleasant smile and say “good morning!” but if I can avoid them I will.

Partly because I prefer morning solitude, and partly because the folks who stay at the Fess Parker Doubletree (I had to leave the Santa Barbara Holiday Inn two days ago) tend to be the same kind of people who go on Caribbean cruises and vacation in Cancun and Las Vegas. Middle-aged marrieds, overweight types, elderly folk, tourists with kids…later.

[Click through to full story on HE-plus]

I was going to buy a $15 ticket to watch this piece of shit at a local Santa Barbara theatre — a 5:30 pm show prior to this evening’s Renee Zelwegger tribute at the Arlington. But I’d much rather catch a 5:40 pm screening of Andrew Patterson‘s The Vast of Night, a ’50s-era sci-fi flick that premiered at Slamdance 2019.

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In the swearing of a solemn oath this morning, all but a few U.S. Senate Republicans were undoubtedly lying in their hearts, lying to their constituents. lying to their children and lying to God: “Do you solemnly swear that in all things pertaining to the trial and impeachment of Donald John Trump, President of the United States and now pending, you will do justice according to the Constitution and laws, so help you God?” They all muttered “I will” or “yeah” or “yo, whatevs.”

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In a piece called “The 2020 Oscar Nominees for Best Picture Reveal White Men in a State of Rebellion“, Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson notes that “we’ve all read the commentaries on the Academy’s shortcomings when it comes to diversity.” But the main problem, she feels, is the presence of too many over-60 white guys.

“What’s revealing is the movies the 8,500 voters actually nominated for Best Picture,” she says. “It reminds us of who these industry insiders are: Mostly white males over 60, many of whom vote with their own taste rather than consider what they might be missing.

“The Academy has raised the percentage of people of color to 16, international members to 20, and women to 32. However, the white men who dominate the voting body are clearly responding in kind. Last year, they defiantly resisted criticisms of Green Book and voted for it anyway.”

You know what that sounds like? Mitch McConnell‘s remark about Elizabeth Warren‘s strong objection to Jeff Sessions‘ nomination as Attorney General. McConnell: “Senator Warren appeared to violate the rule. She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted.”

For the 57th time, Green Book‘s Best Picture Oscar was partly about the supplying of humanity, heart, discipline, believable characters and craft. But a significant and possibly decisive factor was the decision by Green Book admirers to tell twitter scolds to go fuck themselves. And that they did. And for a few minutes on the night of 2.24.19 the world knew a certain kind of joy. Not because Green Book is a masterpiece, but because Khmer Rouge wokesters were handed their walking papers.