Vanity Fair‘s annual big-deal Hollywood issue is finally out. The big attraction for me are the set photos from Quentin Tarantino‘s Once Upon A Time in Hollywood. As for the cover subjects, I’m not sensing much of an electric royalty, top-of-the-mountain factor aside from Black Panther‘s Chadwick Boseman and Bohemian Rhapsody‘s Rami Malek — both major-league talents and part of something really big.

Saoirse Ronan is one of our finest actresses, but Mary, Queen of Scots is a dud. Timothee Chalamet‘s Beautiful Boy performance is a strenuous meth-head drag, and nomination-wise it was elbowed aside by the Academy. John David Washington is the weakest link in BlacKkKlansman. Tessa Thompson was okay in Sorry to Bother You, but was no reason to do handstands. Ditto Nicholas Hoult in The Favourite (and by the way that Hitler youth haircut is unflattering). Regina King is fine in If Beale Street Could Talk, but all she has is that scene in Puerto Rico in which she begs a rape victim to reconsider her testimony. Henry Goulding in Crazy Rich Asians is nothing…he just plays a rich smoothie. Congrats to Roma‘s Yalitza Aparico for her Best Actress nomination, but she’s more of an organic presence than an actress. Elizabeth Debicki was good enough in Widows, but I’m not understanding the hoo-hah.

I’ve always respected director-actor Vincent Gallo (The Brown Bunny, Buffalo 66). Partly for his acting, partly for his edge and ballsiness and blunt talk. A 57 year-old Republican and provocateur whose career has been slowing down over the last decade, Gallo has never seemed to care about behaving the way that people in this town want you to behave, especially these days.

A couple of days ago I came upon an apparently legit post on his website that indicates Gallo is still way, way out there. In a phrase, he’s offering his services to women who are rich enough to fork over $50K for a night of love and exotica. I don’t know how old the post in question is, but nothing I could offer by way of an introduction could properly suffice. It reads like a put-on, but I sense sincerity.

I’m calling Gallo’s offer “apparently legit” because it links to Gallo’s merchandise page, which links to his self-named website, which looks like it was designed in 1997.

16 months ago Björn Runge‘s The Wife premiered during the 2017 Toronto Film Festival. At Roy Thomson Hall, to be precise. I was there in the mezzanine, mesmerized by Glenn Close‘s slow-boil performance as a strong but resentful wife of a Nobel Prize-winning author (Jonathan Pryce). After it ended I was convinced — dead certain! — that Close would land her seventh Oscar nomination, and that she might actually win this time.

The Hollywood Reporter‘s Jon Frosch wrote that Close’s performance is “like a bomb ticking away toward detonation” — perfect. But she’s not just playing her husband’s better in terms of talent and temperament. She’s playing every wife who ever felt under-valued, patronized or otherwise diminished by a swaggering hot-shot husband along with their friends and colleagues as well as — why not? — society as a whole.

In the months that followed I kept re-stating my belief that Close’s Oscar-winning moment would finally be at hand. I said it again after catching a Wife screening in midtown Manhattan. The mostly over-50 crowd whooped and cheered, and you could just feel it.

“This Academy contingent is going to vote for Close en masse, no question,” I wrote. “Over the last 30-plus years she’s been nominated for six Oscars (The World According to Garp, The Big Chill, The Natural, Fatal Attraction, Dangerous Liaisons, Albert Nobbs) without a win — this will be the clincher.”

But deep down I wasn’t 100% sure. Noteworthy journos kept saying “yeah, maybe, Close is very good,” etc. My response was “no, not maybe — definitely.”

Early last November I felt slightly irked by an Eric Kohn and Anne Thompson Indiewire podcast about likely Best Actress contenders. Olivia Colman, Lady Gaga, Melissa McCarthy, Charlize Theron, Rosamund Pike and even Hereditary‘s Toni Collette were discussed, but not Close. This despite 22 out of 25 Gold Derby spitballers having predicted a Close nomination. What exactly was Kohn and Thompson’s blockage?

Excerpts from Damon Linker‘s “How Twitter Could Be The Death of Liberal Democracy,” posted yesTerday (1.22) on The Week:

“In 1984, George Orwell famously described a totalitarian political order in which people were kept as docile subjects in part by a daily ritual called ‘Two Minutes Hate’ in which the population directs all of its pent up fury at ‘Goldstein,’ a possibly fictional enemy of the state.

“Thanks to Twitter, we now know that the same dynamic can arise spontaneously, with fresh ire directed at a new manifestation of the partisan enemy nearly every day. It shows us that under certain circumstances — our circumstances — people can and will fasten onto an endless succession of real-life Goldsteins for the sheer, addictive joy of it — for the pure, delirious pleasure of denouncing manifestations of evil in our midst. Nothing, it seems, is quite as satisfying as singling out our fellow citizens for their moral failings and indulging in fantasies of their fully justified punishment.

“Too little attention has been paid to what may be the most potent facet of the social media platform: its ability to feed the vanity of its users. There’s always an element of egoism to intellectual and political debate. But Twitter puts every tweeter on a massive stage, with the nastiest put-downs, insults, and provocations often receiving the most applause. That’s a huge psychological incentive to escalate the denunciation of political enemies. The more one expresses outrage at the evils of others, the more one gets to enjoy the adulation of the virtual mob.”

“They display an impulsiveness and unhinged rage at political enemies that is incompatible with reasoned thinking about how we might go about governing ourselves, heal the divisions in our country, and avoid a collapse into civic violence that could usher in tyranny.”

Sundance-wise, Park City-wise, today (Wednesday, 1.23) is for preparation, contemplation, buying groceries, schmoozing, filing and so on. As long as you’re bundled up, I mean. The air is like ice-cold steel — it’s Antarctica out there.

I really don’t know how many films I’ll be able to see. Maybe 10 or 12, maybe 15…who knows? Even if the number is low, it’ll still be a worthwhile quest. Better this than sitting around Los Angeles. It all begins tomorrow afternoon.

It would be correct and appropriate if the Sundance Film Festival could somehow arrange for some kind of special tribute to the late Jonas Mekas, the “godfather of American avant-garde cinema” who passed this morning at age 96. Mekas is a major historical indie-realm figure, and it would just seem…well, curious if Sundance didn’t make an effort to honor the guy.

The Lithuanian-born Mekas was a filmmaker, journalist-critic, poet and creative collaborator of Andy Warhol, Nico, Allen Ginsberg, Yoko Ono, John Lennon and Salvador Dalí. He stood up and articulated a vision and a platform for alternative cinema in the mid ’50s, and he kept that torch burning for the rest of his life.

Until recently Mekas was presiding over the AFA as artistic director and was planning “a long-dormant expansion plan to build a cafe, a rooftop terrance and a library to house decades of film materials gathered around the world,” according to a 2017 Indiewire profile. At the time Mekas had “raised around $4.5 million from donations and silent auctions” with a target goal of “just over $12 million.”

I know Mekas best as the co-founder of the Anthology Film Archives (32 2nd Ave, New York, NY 10003), which he and colleagues Stan Brakhage, Ken Kelman, Peter Kubelka, James Broughton and P. Adams Sitney launched in 1970. As the managing editor of the short-lived Thousand Eyes Cinema Guide (’78 and ’79), I would publish Anthology program plans on a monthly basis. The last time I visited the AFA was for a screening of John Flynn‘s The Outfit (’73).

Here’s a warm-hearted essay on Mekas by seasoned journalist-critic Robert Koehler.

Notice how a half-second after this Wisconsin cop realizes that an SUV is skidding towards him, his first reaction is to reach for his nightstick. Discipline that SUV, show it who’s boss, etc.

SLOW DOWN: Authorities are warning motorists about the potential dangers of driving in icy conditions after a deputy's dash camera captured this close call on a Wisconsin highway. https://t.co/B2m7HQZVw6 pic.twitter.com/N9GYw9sJwt

— ABC News (@ABC) January 23, 2019

A 1.23 N.Y. Times story reports that three weeks before the November 2018 election former Vice President Joe Biden accepted a $200K speaking fee from the Economic Club of Southwestern Michigan, and during his speech supported Representative Fred Upton, a long-serving Republican “who in 2017 helped craft a bill to repeal the Affordable Care Act.”

Except from article, written by Alexander Burns: “Biden stunned Democrats and elated Republicans by praising Upton while the lawmaker looked on from the audience. Alluding to Upton’s support for a landmark medical-research law, Mr. Biden called him a champion in the fight against cancer — and “one of the finest guys I’ve ever worked with.”

“Biden’s remarks, coming amid a wide-ranging discourse on American politics, quickly appeared in Republican advertising. The local Democratic Party pleaded with Biden to repair what it saw as a damaging error, to no avail. On Nov. 6, Upton defeated his Democratic challenger by four and a half percentage points.

“As Biden considers a bid for the presidency in 2020, the episode underscores his potential vulnerabilities in a fight for the Democratic nomination and raises questions about his judgment as a party leader. Biden has attempted to strike a balance since leaving office, presenting himself as a unifying statesman who could unseat President Trump while also working to amass a modest fortune of several million dollars.

“Biden’s appearance in Michigan plainly set his lucrative personal activities at odds with what some Democrats saw as his duty to the party, linking him with a civic group seen as tilting to the right and undermining Democrats’ effort to defeat Upton.”

Biden definitely has a problem. If and when he announces his candidacy for the 2020 Democratic nomination for President, he’s going to be hit hard on this. The story obviously reeks of implications of corruption.

A couple of weeks before the 11.2 opening of Bohemian Rhapsody, director Bryan Singer posted an Instagram statement about a long-in-the-works Esquire article about the director’s whole checkered history with twinks, some of which have been called into question.

Singer wrote that the Esquire article would “rehash false accusations and bogus lawsuits” about the sexual assault allegations that have been thrown upon his doorstep.

“I have known for some time that Esquire magazine may publish a negative article about me,” Singer said. “They have contacted my friends, colleagues, and people I don’t even know. In today’s’ climate where people’s careers are being harmed by mere accusations, what Esquire is attempting to do is a reckless disregard for the truth, making assumptions that are fictional and irresponsible.”

Esquire‘s expected publishing of the piece would have presumably been timed to coincide with 20th Century Fox’s Bohemian Rhapsody promotion. Except the article, written by Alex French and Maximillian Potter, never appeared. Not last year, I mean. Now it finally has, but in the Atlantic, not Esquire.

The piece, currently on the Atlantic website, is well-sourced and quite brutal.

Singer’s latest statement, given to Variety‘s Gene Maddaus: “The last time I posted about this subject, Esquire magazine was preparing to publish an article written by a homophobic journalist who has a bizarre obsession with me dating back to 1997. After careful fact-checking and, in consideration of the lack of credible sources, Esquire chose not to publish this piece of vendetta journalism.

“That didn’t stop this writer from selling it to The Atlantic. It’s sad that The Atlantic would stoop to this low standard of journalistic integrity. Again, I am forced to reiterate that this story rehashes claims from bogus lawsuits filed by a disreputable cast of individuals willing to lie for money or attention. And it is no surprise that, with Bohemian Rhapsody being an award-winning hit, this homophobic smear piece has been conveniently timed to take advantage of its success.”

Excerpt from French and Potter’s Atlantic piece: “We spent 12 months investigating various lawsuits and allegations against Singer. In total, we spoke with more than 50 sources, including four men who have never before told their stories to reporters.

Hollywood Elsewhere’s Southwest flight arrived in Salt Lake City around 3:15 pm. A Canyons shuttle dropped me at the Park Regency a couple of hours later. I told the desk clerks that I’m sharing with Jordan Ruimy and Bob Koehler, and they gave me a key to a second floor two-bedroom suite — #209.

I let myself in and noticed that both bedrooms had been slept in and that a lot of ski gear was lying around.

The clutter was bothersome. I’ve paid the lion’s share of the rent, and was therefore expecting that the bigger bedroom would be, you know, all pristine and unsullied and ready for Jeffy. I felt disappointed and a bit puzzled, but what the hell. I sat down at the kitchen table, took out one of my laptops and began to file.

Email to Jordan & Bob: “I paid more than you guys so I get the nicer bedroom, right?  But somebody’s occupying it.  I’m not trying to go all Alpha Dog on you, but I did pay more so I do have seniority.  I mean, I’m the daddy.”

After 45 minutes a 50ish guy and his wife entered. Boing!! They were surprised to see a stranger making himself at home in their private abode, and I was surprised to see them. Nobody freaked but the vibe was naturally weird. The wife put her hands to her mouth when she saw me. “It’s okay, it’s cool, just a mistake,” I told her.

The Park Regency guys had given me the wrong key — Koehler and Ruimy were actually in suite #309. I apologized, made a couple of bad jokes, gathered my stuff and wished them a good day.

“I leave it to the movie gods, and the gossip columnists, to debate how much Bradley Cooper is personally liked or disliked in Hollywood. But his omission from the best director roster didn’t happen in a vacuum.

“It crystallized the slow but steady fade of A Star Is Born over the last month or two, from Oscar slam-dunk to solid-but-hardly-sure-fire Oscar front-runner to middle-of-the-road Oscar contender to hanging-on-by-its-fingernails Oscar movie that’s still sort of in the game to the place it now holds: Oscar toast.

“And that, in a way, is a much bigger story than the issue of whether Cooper came off as too serious and self-involved over the course of awards season, especially in a certain much-talked-about newspaper-of-record magazine profile.” — from “The Message of the Oscar Nominations: You’d Better Have a Social Message,” posted by Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman on 1.22.

When Sundancers (even those without a press badge) arrive at Salt Lake City airport they need to grab a shuttle to Park City, which costs a tiny bit more each year. Express Shuttle and Canyon Transportation (same outfit, different routes) are charging $41. Way things are.

So I asked a GenZ desk clerk (elfin, thin) when the next Park City shuttle would depart, and she said “about a half hour.” Which didn’t sound too bad. “Or you could check with Ascent,” she offered, except she pronounced it “AYsent” — accent on first syllable. I looked at the Ascent sign (about 70 feet away) and said, “Ascent, you mean?” — second syllable accent. Half nod, half shrug.

So I walked down to the “AYsent” desk and asked the clerk (also GenZ, on chubby side) about their next Park City shuttle. “Leaving in about…uhm, 20 minutes?” Sounds good, I said. “And the fare is $40…?” AYsent GenZ clerk: “We charge $55 dollars.” HE cowboy hat: “Whoa!”

Back to Express Shuttle. HE: “Your competition is $14 more expensive.” Oh, she said. “Higher fares are usually a factor. Why didn’t you just…you know, mention that before sending me down there?” GenZ stringbean : “I didn’t know they were that high.”

Imagine working every day as an SLC shuttle clerk — hour after hour, day after day — and having no clue what your competitors charge, and no curiosity about this. If I was stuck with this kind of job I’d figure out the competition situation and the fare discrepancies (if any) right away. But that’s me — a Type A. A lot of people operate as Type Bs. Tunnel vision. Way things are.