As reported on 3.14, a technically upgraded version of Francis Coppola‘s Apocalypse Now — remastered in 4K with Dolby Vision and Dolby Atmos from a 4K scan of the original negative — will screen at the Tribeca Film Festival (actually the Beacon theatre) on 4.28.

If you go to the Tribeca Film Festival website and search under the A to Z rundown of films, the Apocalypse copy announces that Coppola’s Vietnam War-meets-Joseph Conrad-meets-LSD classic “will celebrate its 40th Anniversary at the festival with a screening of a new, never-before-seen restored version of the film, entitled Apocalypse Now: Final Cut.”

As I wrote in the afore-mentioned article called “Apocalypse Now: Spit Shined“, the Final Cut title was misleading.

Because, as I accurately reported, the new version contains “no new footage, and has nothing to do with re-editing or extra bells and whistles — it’s strictly a technical upgrade thing. Hollywood Elsewhere urges Coppola to remove the words ‘final cut’ and replace them with ‘spit-shined.’ Because that’s what this is.”

The impression created by the term “final cut” has lingered. An industry friend recently speculated that the Tribeca version might be a new cut that is somewhere between the 147-minute original version (the 153-minute running time was a result of closing credits that appeared on the 35mm wide release prints) and Apocalypse Now Redux, which ran 202 minutes.

Nope.

This morning a Tribeca rep sent me another web page with different info. The words “Final Cut” have disappeared. The new term is “World Premiere Restoration Premiere.”

It also confirms that the version Tribeca is showing (147 minutes or 2 hour, 27 minutes) is the original 70mm version sans credits.

Just to recap, the 70mm Ziegfeld theatre version (no closing credits except for the words “Omni Zoetrope” at the very end) that premiered on 8.15.79 ran 147 minutes. The wide-release 35mm version with closing credits ran 153 minutes. Apocalypse Now Redux (’01) ran 202 minutes, or 49 minutes longer than the 35mm version w/ credits.

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I can’t believe I’m actually going to hump it down to the Arclight to pay money to see The Best of Enemies, which is allegedly half-decent but less than electric or galvanizing. That’s because STX and Sunshine Sachs didn’t invite a lot of us to a screening, and offer to send any streaming links.

Based on Osha Gray Davidson‘s “The Best of Enemies: Race and Redemption in the New South”, it’s about some kind of mano e mano that led to a rapproachment between civil rights activist Ann Atwater (Taraji P. Henson) and Ku Klux Klan leader C.P. Ellis (Sam Rockwell) in 1971.

To go by this trailer for Andrew Slater’s Echo in The Canyon, there’s a night-and-day difference between (a) what seems like a generic boomer nostalgia doc that explores and celebrates the ’60s Laurel Canyon musician community (Jackson Browne, Ringo Starr, Brian Wilson, Eric Clapton, Beck, Michelle Phillips, David Crosby, Cat Power, Lou Adler, Stephen Stills) that influenced everyone and everything back in the day, and (b) a rich, double-down, grade-A, personal-confession doc like A.J. Eaton and Cameron Crowe‘s David Crosby: Remember My Name.

Echo in the Canyon opens on 5.24 at Arclight’s Cinerama Dome in Los Angeles. Jakob Dylan, the Wallflowers crooner and son of Bob Dylan, handles the narration and interviewing. Right away the question is “why him? what’s the connection?”

From my Sundance review of the Eaton-Crowe doc: “Triple grade-A doc…the antithesis of a kiss-ass, ‘what a great artist’ tribute, but at the same time a profoundly moving warts-and-all reflection piece…hugely emotional, meditative, BALDLY PAINFULLY NAKEDLY HONEST…God! There’s a special spiritual current that seeps out when an old guy admits to each and every failing of his life without the slightest attempt to rationalize or minimize…’I was a shit, I was an asshole, how is it that I’m still alive?,’ etc. Straight, no chaser.

“And this isn’t because I’m partial to boomer nostalgia flicks or because so many are being shown here, or because I grew up with the Byrds (12-string twangly-jangly), Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills and Nash and that whole long lyrical–frazzled history. It’s about the tough stuff and the hard rain…about addiction and rage and all but destroying your life, and then coming back semi-clean and semi-restored, but without any sentimentality or gooey bullshit.”

From The Washington Post‘s Ellen Nakashima, Carol D. Leonnig and Rosalind S. Helderman: “Members of Robert Mueller’s team have complained to close associates that the evidence they gathered on obstruction was alarming and significant.

“‘It was much more acute than Barr suggested,’ said one person, who, like others, spoke on the condition of anonymity because of the subject’s sensitivity.

The New York Times‘ Nicholas Fandos, Michael S. Schmidt and Mark Mazzetti first reported “that some special counsel investigators feel that Barr did not adequately portray their findings.

“Some members of the office were particularly disappointed that Barr did not release summary information the special counsel team had prepared, according to two people familiar with their reactions. ‘There was immediate displeasure from the team when they saw how the attorney general had characterized their work instead,’ according to one U.S. official briefed on the matter.”

Like Francis Coppola, Brian DePalma‘s heyday was in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. The film looks and feels low-rent. Nikolaj Coster–Waldau and Clarice van Houten (who replaced Christina Hendricks) are “names” but not stars. The 2017 shoot (partly in Spain, partly in Denmark) was reportedly a mess.

“I had a lot of problems in financing Domino. I never experienced such a horrible movie set. A large part of our team has not even been paid yet by the Danish producers. This was my first experience in Denmark and most likely my last.

“Domino is [about] a revenge of a cop duo against terrorists who killed another. For me the film was more of an opportunity to explore a visual narrative. In the film, terrorists are obsessed with the idea that their actions are instantly visible live on the internet or on TV. It’s not my project. I did not write the script.” — Brian DePalma quoted by The Playlist‘s Rodrigo Perez on 6.5.18.

The fifth-estate Cinemacon cheering section went apeshit this morning over a longish Rocketman reel. Most of it seems to boil down to “Taron Egerton‘s performance as Elton John is a lock for a Best Actor Oscar nom.” Fine, great, terrific. Nobody said a word, of course, about the fact that Egerton’s singing voice (how many times have I said this?) sounds like a cruise-ship imitator rather than the real thing. Which would seem to contrast poorly with Rami Malek‘s very Freddie Mercury-like singing voice in Bohemian Rhapsody.

I and I alone will determine the value of Egerton’s performance (which will obviously include his not-good-enough imitation of John’s singing) and of course Rocketman itself when I see it in Cannes.

If some kind of LGBTQ cultural dictatorship was to seize power and straights were more or less obliged to either be closeted or “get with the program” in the same way that The Lobster‘s Colin Farrell was told to find a girlfriend or else be turned into an animal…if the message from on high was that I’d be better off if I could find a boyfriend and at least pretend to be gay, I would try to find a guy who looks like Cary Grant did from the mid ’30s to mid ’40s

[Click through to full story on HE-plus]

I feel a little bit sad that Inbox — Google’s personalized” mail app that I’d been using on my iPhone since late 2014 — was discontinued yesterday. Granted, the new Gmail app is a little more Inbox-y — spiffier, more colorful, more here-and-now. Not the end of the world, but I just thought I’d say “farewell and adieu” to an app I was fairly happy with.

From Owen Gleiberman‘s Sundance review of Joe Berlinger‘s Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile: “So how is Zac Efron as Ted Bundy? I think he’s startlingly good: controlled, magnetic, audacious, committed and eerily right.

“With his hair grown out into a sort of Bert Convy ‘do, Efron looks the part just fine, and he uses his insidious charisma to grab us from the start, when Ted, haunting a college bar in Seattle in 1969, meets Liz Kendall (Lily Collins), the single mom who will become his romantic and domestic partner throughout the years of his crimes.

“Ted is a kind of actor, a maniac playing a role, yet doing it with such sincerity and flair that it’s not just a role. It’s the person a part of him wants to be. Ted is the sort of ladies’ man who turns heads when he walks down the street. He’s a charmer, a sexy-eyed player, a catch. But he’s a shrewd enough manipulator to know when to play up that image, and to know how to play against it as well. He woos the naïve, fawn-like Liz, who thinks no man could be interested in a secretary with a small daughter, and when he’s in her presence he puts on a major show of being kind, warm, doting, and gentle.”

Costarring John Malkovich, Angela Sarafyan, Jim Parsons, Haley Joel Osment and Kaya Scodelario. Opening in select theaters and Netflix on 5.3.19.