Right outside the window, flooding the whole neighborhood…

Sometime yesterday an Apartment-lover named Mason Daniel (aka “BuddyBoyBaxter”) claimed on Twitter that Roman Polanski conveyed his attitude about women in three films — “REPULSION: Woman protagonist is raped during night terrors — ROSEMARY’S BABY: Woman protagonist is raped by Satan to have his child — CHINATOWN: Woman is raped by her father and gives birth to incest child.”

Daniel’s conclusion: “Yeah, really easy to apply ‘separate art from the artist’ with Polanski.”

Soon after The Hollywood Reporter‘s Scott Feinberg called this an “interesting observation” as in “hmm, you might have a point there, Mason!”

HE response: “Interesting” how, Scott? Because these scenes reveal Polanski’s mindset or something? Repulsion is a meticulous, carefully observed, very measured portrait of a young woman (Catherine Deneuve) descending into madness. First, the scene in question is an IMAGINED assault on Deneuve’s part. Second, what makes it stand out is Polanski’s decision to erase natural sound and use only the sound of a ticking alarm clock and the ringing of a bell. Film school lesson #1: It’s not what you show but how you show it that distinguishes pulp from art.

Plus: Rosemary’s Baby author Ira Levin created the sex-with-Satan scene, not Polanski. There couldn’t be any ducking away from this because the whole story hinges on this coupling. Plus: Chinatown screenwriter Robert Towne created the incest link between Evelyn and Hollis Mulwray, except, as Evelyn confesses to Jake Gittes, the sex wasn’t “rape” but consensual.

Conclusion: Mason Daniel is a moron.

A year and a half ago Indiewire‘s David Ehrlich shrieked like a p.c. banshee when I tweeted to Jessica Chastain that an aspiring film critic not only needs to be talented, tenacious and willing to eat shit, but that it would “help” if he/she is “fetching.” Ehrlich was appalled that anyone would even suggest that an attractive appearance might have something to do with how you’re received in mixed company or by potential employers. I called him a delusional little bitch, of course, but last night Bill Maher reiterated the obvious:

“News flash: People just like the physically attractive better. Sorry. The taller candidate usually wins the election. Studies show that the better-looking person, all things being equal, usually gets the job. Even babies prefer to look at attractive faces.”

Jon Meacham, author of “The Soul of America: The Battle For Our Better Angels“: “You can get 34% of the country to say damn near anything. This is a battle about the 20% that either aren’t paying enough attention, who are beginning to be worried about the fact that Rudy Giuliani, after [having consumed] pretty clearly a liquid dinner the other night…the 20% who are accessible…[and] you can get [them]. Because we did it with women’s suffrage, we did it with civil rights, we did it ultimately with the union of the country, we did it with marriage equality.”

Bill Maher: “I don’t see [Trump] leaving under any condition. Including people knocking on the door with guns. He’ll be Scarface, he’ll be watching on the security camera…’say hello to my little friend!'”

Two days ago Rudy Giuliani, Donald Trump‘s new strategist/spokesperson in the matter of Robert Mueller‘s investigation into Russian collusion and obstruction of justice, said Jared Kushner, Trump’s oily son-in-law, is “disposable.” The former New York mayor also warned that “Americans will turn against Mueller if he investigates Trump’s daughter Ivanka.”

How nice would it be to wake up one morning and learn @realDonaldTrump has just resigned? pic.twitter.com/JYIiJ2uIrK

— The Young Turks (@TheYoungTurks) May 5, 2018

I laid down for a short nap around 7:30 pm, and awoke at 1:30 am. I wrote and read for four hours, flopped again and woke around 2:30 pm. A brass band was playing nearby, up the staircase and about a block away, adjacent to rue d’Abbesses. It reminded me of the brass band funeral march at the beginning of The Godfather, Part II. I laid my Olympus on the window sill and hit “record”. A nice mood-setter as I prepared my first cup of coffee. (Note: The band doesn’t kick in until the 30-second mark.)

If Disney in fact decides to make a Han Solo trilogy, they need to dump Alden Ehrenreich and hire Ansel Elgort. Ehrenreich will simply become the George Lazenby of the Star Wars series — a one-off who was quickly dropped and replaced. No problem, fans are willing to adapt and forgive, but get rid of that beady-eyed, small-shouldered, square-faced short guy and hire a proper Han…Jesus.

Variety‘s Ramin Setoodeh and Brent Lang have reported that the people behind Bradley Cooper‘s A Star Is Born, currently regarded as a potential Best Picture contender, said no to an invitation to premiere in Cannes next week. Cooper, Lady Gaga and the film itself, which various actors (Sean Penn, Robert De Niro, Barbra Streisand, Jennifer Lawrence) have said is extraordinary, would’ve gotten a huge promotional bounce out of a Cannes premiere.

So why the ixnay? Probably because A Star Is Born is a little too commercial (i.e., too nakedly emotional, too Access) for this critic-driven festival, and award consultants calculated that a certain percentage of Cannes critics would trash it simply because of the emotional current, and so they figured why risk it?

Variety says Cannes also invited Luca Guadagnino‘s Suspiria to attend, but Amazon said no. My guess is that they were slightly concerned about the fact that Suspiria, however scarily effective, is anything but a typical Guadagnino film and represents, in fact, a sharp departure from the sensual splendors of I Am Love, A Bigger Splash and Call me By Your Name. They knew that a certain portion of Cannes critics might feel distanced by this on some level, and so they got scared and decided to restrict themselves to the fall circuit.

Award-season consultants have been advising their clients to avoid Cannes for years. Add to this the calamitous Netflix withdrawal (no Roma, Norway or The Other Side of the Wind) and a general feeling, reflected by the Variety headline “Will Cannes Remain Influential?”, that the sun may in fact be setting on this much-beloved gathering, and you’re left with guys like me thinking I should probably save my travel dough for Telluride and Toronto, etc. Winds are shifting, wheels are turning.

“The truth is that Cannes’ influence and effervescent mixture of celebrity and cinephilia have been fading for several years,” Setoodeh and Lang write. “It costs tens of millions for studios to fly directors and stars to the Mediterranean town, an expense that shrinking indie players can’t afford.”

I’ve noted before that the only apparent bright lights are Asghar Farhadi‘s Everybody Knows, Pawel Pawlikowski‘s Cold War, David Robert Mitchell‘s Under The Silver Lake (which I’ve heard good but mixed things about), Matteo Garrone‘s Dogman, Jafar Panahi‘s Three Faces, Spike Lee‘s BlacKkKlansman and Lars Von Trier‘s out-of-competition The House That Jack Built.

I’m very sorry I missed Ari Aster‘s Hereditary (A24, 6.8) at last January’s Sundance Film Festival. It seems that I’ve been paying the price ever since. I’m partly blaming the festival programmers as two of Hereditary‘s four public showings were midnighters, and I don’t do those as a rule. My only real shot was catching an 8:30 pm screening at the MARC on Monday, 1.22, but I had a conflict. If Sundance is about one thing, it’s “choose right or lose.” Have A24 publicists since offered one or two screenings to people like me? Of course not. All I know is, I missed a biggie — this year’s Babadook or The Witch. Toni Collette, Alex Wolff, Milly Shapiro, Ann Dowd, Gabriel Byrne, etc.

Roughly an hour ago Hollywood Elsewhere took up residence at 37 rue Andre Antoine in Montmartre. A first-floor apartment (i.e., one floor up from the street) with a decent-sized bedroom, a smallish living room, a first-rate kitchen, a nice bathroom with a washing machine and a toilet closet. Large French windows, plenty of light. Just down the steps from rue d’Abbesses.

There’s a Serge Gainsbourg quote on the white wall in front of the apartment. It’s from a Gainsbourg 70’s hit called “Variations of Marylou”. Pretty cool graffiti. Only in France. A friend offered a translation:

“With her absent look
And her absinthe irises
Marilou has fun making smoke rings
of dry menthol
Between two comic-strip bubbles”

No sleep during last night’s JFK-to-Dublin flight, which left around 5:30 pm and arrived at 4:25 am. The Dublin-to-Paris flight left at 6:40 am, arrived at CDG…I forget but the flight lasted around 100 minutes, maybe a bit longer. Why go through Dublin? It was cheaper, or so it seemed at first.