Metro report, 11:06 am: “Police have arrested a 56 year-old Republican named Cesar Sayoc, Jr. on suspicion of being the MAGA bomber who sent 12 pipe bombs to Democrats and Donald Trump critics. Sayoc was taken into custody close to an auto parts store in Plantation, a suburb of Miami, around 10:30 Friday morning. He was traced by DNA evidence.

“Law enforcement officials were seen covering a white van close to the scene, which appears to be covered in photos of Donald Trump, and is reported to have at least one anti-Hillary Clinton sticker. That van was seen being loaded onto a police flatbed truck. Plantation is located in the congressional district of Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz, whose last name (misspelled) was listed on the packages.”

Incidentally: I’ll bet that on some level Sen. Corey Booker (D., New Jersey) felt left out yesterday when it appeared as if he hadn’t been sent a MAGA bomb package. Well, today he joined the club.

I’ve never heard of a ball-fetching cattle in all my years on this planet, and I’d certainly never seen one until this morning. This was posted less than month ago (9.26.18). I don’t usually share inane stuff but this stands out. Possibly a Charolais bovine, which is native to the Burgundy region of France?

How about a list of bad or dreary movies with brilliant titles? This is a thing, no? Titles that are so zestily inviting and perfectly catchy that you want to see them right away, but then the movie turns out to be an amateurish slog.

And I’m not thinking of, say, Surf Nazis Must Die — a Troma title that told you right off the bat that it was almost certainly cheap garbage. But Ilsa, She-Wolf of the S.S., a title from the mind of director-writer Don Edmonds or screenwriter Jonah Royston, turned a certain lock in the mind, unleashing all kinds of dopey B&D leather-pervo fantasies plus hints of wicked humor.

For years I loved this stupid title without having seen the film. Then I finally saw it on DVD in the late ’90s, and my whole Ilsa realm was shattered. The reviewers weren’t wrong when they called it dreary torture porn. But you still have to admire the title. And it did well enough to inspire four sequels — Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks, Ilsa, The Mad Butcher, Ilsa, Tigress of Siberia and Ilsa, the Wicked Warden.

I was going also going to ask for the reverse — a list of unusually good or even excellent films that were saddled with a curious, interest-killing title. But there aren’t very many of these — Edge of Tomorrow, Quantum of Solace, Under Capricorn, Chartreuse Caboose, etc.

I first looked at this President Trump tweet around 6 am, and it had a 3:14 am timestamp. Another Twitter user made note of the unusual hour. According to this White House schedule Trump was in D.C. last night. Now it has a 12:14 am timestamp, except he wasn’t in California last night. Plus another timestamp says it was posted “6h” ago,” and it’s now around 9:30 am eastern. I’m presuming that somehow a staffer managed to change the timestamp as the notion of Trump tweeting at 3:14 am suggests the behavior of an unruly insomniac. He’s apparently done this before, having tweeted something at 3:15 am on 9.17.18.

A couple of hours ago I flashed on a 10.26 Hollywood Reporter interview with Shoplifters costar Maya Maysuoka, who’s 23. The co-authors of the piece, Patrick Brzeski and Georg Szalai, don’t use the word “rising” but the headline does. That’s because she’s caught on with a certain strata of film-festival-attending critics and columnists, but primarily because she’s perky, dishy, button-cute, etc. If I wanted to be coarse I’d…naahh, forget it.

I missed Shoplifters when I was in Cannes last May, but the word of mouth was such that I was surprised when it won the Palme d’Or. (Nobody grabbed me by the lapels and said “you must see the Hirokazu Kore-eda…it’s awesome!”) I recently saw Shoplifters at the Hamptons Film Festival, and I have to say that while I found it a confident, first-rate expression of its own tattered, downtrodden, hand-to-mouth realm, I was only mildly stirred and frankly not blown away.

But I liked Maysuoka right off the bat. My reactions to her character and performance were not limited to “she’s hot,” but she made that kind of impression. Certain actresses have been exerting this effect for roughly a century. Naturally Brzeski and Szalai’s article doesn’t even glance in this direction. It would obviously be tedious to do so, but still.

Shoplifters costar Maya Maysuoka

WHE’s 4K Ultra HD Bluray of Stanley Kubrick‘s 2001: A Space Odyssey has been a long time coming, and has gone through some delays and odd changes along the way.

Last spring it was being prepared in the usual way, allegedly based on elements that would have rendered a visual look similar to the 2007 Bluray version. The original release date was 5.8.18.

Then Chris Nolan‘s non-restored version, infamously tinted teal and piss yellow, debuted in Cannes and opened in select U.S. theatres. It was soon after announced that the 4K disc would be based upon the Nolan version, and widespread depression was felt across the land. It was also announced that the release date of the Nolan-ized disc would be 10.30.18.

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I’ve been accused of unfairness when I occasionally bolt out of a film. Actually the accusations come when I write in the column “I’ve just walked out on a film I couldn’t stand.” I’ve been scratched, kicked, gouged and spat upon for doing this, but every so often a film is unendurable and that’s just a plain damn fact.

But there’s another form of unfairness or cruelty, even, and that’s refusing to see a film under any viewing format or circumstance based on nothing more than a negative gut impression. Usually based on a trailer or in some cases a synopsis. Or even the sound of a title.

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If you want to know how it feels when your brain begins to grow a large painful tumor, you need to listen to Erik Anderson’s introduction to his chat with N.Y. Times “Carpetbagger” Kyle Buchanan on a 10.25 Awards Watch podcast.

I’m referring to Anderson twice mentioning A Quiet Place‘s Emily Blunt as a possibly credible contender for a Best Supporting Actress nomination. Or for a Best Actress nom — one of the two.

He almost speaks of her award-season contention as if it’s a fait accompli. Anderson does this from time to time, talking about performances that are percolating in the conversation. Not because they’re actually doing that, but because they’re percolating in his head.

A quick glance at the latest Gold Derby consensus on the likeliest Best Supporting Actress contenders tells you right away that Blunt is not happening. As in “Forget it, Erik — take the needle out of your arm.”

The leading supporting actress contenders are Regina King, Amy Adams, Linda Cardellini, Marina de Tavira, Emma Stone, Mary Queen of Scots‘ Margot Robbie and First Man‘s Claire Foy. That’s seven and that’s all.

Blunt doesn’t have a shot in the Best Actress realm either.

Postscript: This has nothing do with anything, but you can also forget Natalie Portman in Vox Lux. I haven’t even seen it, and I know you can forget it.

14 out of 26 Gold Derby “experts” have put Green Book‘s Mahershala Ali at the top of their Best Supporting Actor spitball lists. That’s roughly a 60% consensus, and you can bet that some didn’t pick Mahershala because he won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar less than two years ago for his Moonlight performance.

Ali had…what, four or five scenes in Barry Jenkins‘ Best Picture winner, if that? But his Don Shirley performance in Green Book lasts all through the film and abounds with pleasure — it’s almost a lead. In fact you could argue it is a lead performance, but that argues with Mahershala’s (or his p.r. team’s) strategy.

Mahershala is listed second on six Gold Derby lists. Face it — he’s almost a lock.

Ali’s strongest Best Supporting Actor competitor, Beautiful Boy‘s Timothy Chalamet, appears at the top of seven lists.

What was NBC News chairman Andy Lack thinking when he hired Megyn Kelly to host an early-morning talk show and supply occasional news commentary? Did he think this former Fox News star would suddenly morph into a moderate version of Rachel Maddow or something?

This is a woman who insisted five years ago that Jesus of Nazareth was white. Did Lack think she would just shed such views like a snake?

Kelly was who she was and is who she is — an outspoken conservative white woman (probably with submerged racial attitudes) who never had to kowtow to p.c. culture until she took the NBC gig. And now she’s dead. Off on her own, I mean.

By the way: The last time I ever considered the idea of a white person wearing blackface was when I saw Robert Downey, Jr. in Tropic Thunder, but that was comedy. Gene Wilder in Stir Crazy was also a goof. Before that was Neil Diamond‘s minstrel routine in The Jazz Singer, some 38 years ago.

I’ve never even heard of any kid wearing blackface for Halloween — never, not once. Then again I hail from New Jersey and Connecticut.

For almost two years President Trump has been whipping up rage and resentment among rural dumbshit followers at those hillbilly Nuremberg rallies, accusing the establishment liberals of deep-state obfuscation and the mainstream media of “purposely false and inaccurate reporting” — i.e., “fake news.”

Tump hasn’t generated this ugliness in exactly the same way that Adolf Hitler whipped up loathing and resentment against Jews and Communists in the 1930s, but he’s come pretty close. You have to admit that.

Think of it — a U.S. president has deliberately orchestrated a climate of anger so intense that an attempted assassination of two ex-presidents happened yesterday via mail bombs. Multiple attempted murders that were essentially inspired by hate rhetoric that has been repeatedly owned and generated by this bloated, trash-talking sociopath.

And there are millions out there who will be voting next month for legislators who’ve pledged to support this animal.

Sasha Stone is traveling across America, and all she seems to care about is following Google and Waze and driving no longer than six or seven hours. I love her but we just had an argument about the best route from Shreveport (where she stayed last night) to Savannah, and she has this insane notion about driving northeast from Meridian, Mississippi to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and then past Birmingham and crashing in Leeds, Alabama.

Leeds is on the road to Atlanta…Atlanta! Who would want to come within 50 miles of that godforsaken over-developed sprawl when you’re driving across America, which most people do for the purpose of filling their hearts and enrichening their souls?

Google Maps and Waze are life-savers when you’re trying to find a specific spot in a big city, but they kill the joy of travelling if you follow their suggestions during long journeys. Because all they care about is getting you to a destination within a short time-frame. Nine times out of ten that means driving on big ugly freeways and commercial boulevards and gassing up at big corporate rest-stops.

Yesterday I had to twist Sasha’s arm to visit Dealey Plaza, and she didn’t even pull her car over when she got there. She just drove on through while glancing at the grassy knoll and the big red building that used to be the Texas School Book Depository. I’m not even sure she noticed the two big X stencils that mark the position of the the JFK limo when the first and third shots were fired.

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