HE readers are sick and tired of hearing about how Luca Guadagnino‘s Call Me By Your Name (Sony Pictures Classics, 11.24) was regarded as a major grand slam by critics at last January’s Sundance Film Festival. Ecstatic raves, shifting tectonic plates, 100% Rotten Tomatoes rating, etc. Then came the first hint of an attitude when Variety‘s Kris Tapley complained of a CMBYN “mafia, which is already overbearing.” I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since.

Now I’ve spoken to a savvy, somewhat older industry guy who gets around, and he’s offered to bet me any amount that CMBYN won’t be Best Picture nominated. He said “it really didn’t work for me”, and he knows a couple of other guys from his age-peer group (including a film festival honcho) who feel the same way. Dismissive, shaking their heads, nope.

Among this fellow’s observations: (a) Luca is unquestionably a skillful director, and the film is “very well made” and the locations are dreamy and beautiful, but (b) it’s “way too long” because he “looked at [his] watch four times”, (c) he “just didn’t buy the attraction between Armie Hammer and Timothy Chalamet,” partly because Chalamet was “too into” a local teenage girl and because Hammer was too aloof and uninterested for too long, and (d) he saw it as somewhat analogous to Robert Mulligan‘s Summer of ’42 with Armie in the Jennifer O’Neil role and Chalamet as Gary Grimes, but that he prefers Summer of ’42.

He said that the older crowd is going to have difficulty with some of the sexual intimacy scenes. When I replied “but Luca doesn’t really show anything…it’s mostly just a lot of kissing along with a simulated [sex act],” he said “the young guy takes the older guy’s underwear and puts it over his head and smells it? This is a perfect Outfest movie.”

He also said he wasn’t all that impressed by Michael Stuhlbarg‘s father-son moment with Chalamet at the end, partly because “[Stuhlbarg] says he’s never had that kind of passionate episode in his own past, the kind that Timothy has just had, and so right away Stuhlbarg is kind of pissing on his relationship with his wife, which seems pretty healthy.”

Bottom line: “Either you buy into a movie like this or you don’t,” he said. And he didn’t. And there you have it. I cover the waterfront, and it takes all sorts.

In response to the Orpheum Theatre’s recent decision to permanently shun Gone With The Wind, here’s an HE rebuttal to Lou Lumenick’s anti-GWTW rant, posted on 6.26.15:

“Lumenick is not wrong, but I feel misgivings. I don’t believe it’s right to throw Gone With The Wind under the bus just like that. Yes, it’s an icky and offensive film at times (Vivien Leigh‘s Scarlett O’Hara slapping Butterly McQueen‘s Prissy for being irresponsible in the handling of Melanie giving birth, the depiction of Everett Brown‘s Big Sam as a gentle, loyal and eternal defender of Scarlett when the chips are down) but every time I’ve watched GWTW I’ve always put that stuff in a box in order to focus on the real order of business.

“For Gone With The Wind is not a film about slavery or the antebellum South or even, really, the Civil War.

“It’s a movie about (a) a struggle to survive under ghastly conditions and (b) about how those with brass and gumption often get through the rough patches better than those who embrace goodness and generosity and playing by the rules. This is a fundamental human truth, and if you ask me the reason Gone With The Wind has resonated for so long is that generation after generation has recognized it as such. If you want to survive you have to be tough and scrappy and sometimes worry about the proprieties later on. Anyone who’s ever faced serious adversity understands the eloquence of that classic Scarlett O’Hara line, ‘I’ll never be hungry again.’

“I think GWTW particularly connected with 1939 audiences because they saw it as a parable of the deprivations that people had gone through during the Great Depression.

26 months ago former N.Y. Post film critic Lou Lumenick called for a shunning of Gone With The Wind because of “undeniably racist” attitudes embedded in its story and characters. And now that politically-correct projection has become a reality, at least as far as Memphis’ Orpheum theatre is concerned.

Earlier this month Orpheum management said it would no longer show Gone With The Wind as part of the Orpheum Movie Series due to complaints, presumably from African-American viewers and ultra-p.c. types. The theater’s board deemed the 1939 film “insensitive” after receiving “numerous comments” that stemmed from a screening on Friday, 8.11.17. The Clark Gable-Vivien Leigh film, once the most beloved Hollywood epic of all time, has been dropped from next year’s planned summer movie series.

“While title selections for the series are typically made in the spring of each year, the Orpheum has made this determination early in response to specific inquiries from patrons,” per a statement from The Orpheum Theatre Group. “The Orpheum appreciates feedback on its programming from all members of the mid-south community. The recent screening of Gone With the Wind at the Orpheum generated numerous comments. As an organization whose stated mission is to ‘entertain, educate and enlighten the communities it serves,’ the Orpheum cannot show a film that is insensitive to a large segment of its local population.”

The racism in GWTW is “no longer tolerable in our current socio-political climate,” Lumenick argued. While noting that GWTW “isn’t as blatantly and virulently racist as D.W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation, which was considered one of the greatest American movies as late as the early 1960s, but is now rarely screened, even in museums,” Lumenick suggested that GWTW “may one day disappear from the cultural conversation and suffer a permanent downgrade when it comes to estimating the all-time great films.”

Posted on 10.6.16: “Hurricane Gloria came roaring across lower Fairfield County in the wee hours of 9.28.85, and I was there, man, standing in my parents’ front yard in Wilton, Connecticut, sometime around 1:30 or 2 am. That howling sound, 90 mph winds, huge trees bending. The full force of it ebbed after ten minutes or so, but I’ve never forgotten that feeling, that energy.” Posted this morning: Call me a hurricane junkie if you want, but if I’d been in Rockport, Texas last night I would’ve been looking to safely absorb what I could of Harvey’s raw ferocity.

What makes this shot great? The red light is on and glowing.

President Trump had no moral authority or credibility after his off-the-cuff Charlottesville comments, but now he’s in the minus realm after paroling former Maricopa County Sheriff Joe “pink underwear” Arpaio. The Arizona Republic called Trump’s pardon “a sign of pure contempt for every American who believes in justice, human dignity and the rule of law.” The pardon is a message, of course, to others who may be facing prosecution for Trump-associated crimes or misdemeanors down the road: “Man up, zip it, don’t roll over on me when prosecutors start applying pressure. Do this and I’ll pardon you if you get sentenced.”

From Arpaio’s Wikipage: “Arpaio claimed that his requirement that inmates wear pink underwear…saved the county $70,000 in the first year the rule was in effect. Arpaio subsequently sold customized pink boxers (with the Maricopa County Sheriff’s logo and ‘Go Joe’) as a fund-raiser for Sheriff’s Posse Association. Despite allegations of misuse of funds received from these sales, Arpaio declined to provide an accounting for the money. Arpaio’s success in gaining press coverage with the pink underwear resulted in his extending the use of the color. He introduced pink handcuffs, using the event to promote his book, ‘Joe’s Law: America’s Toughest Sheriff Takes on Illegal Immigration, Drugs and Everything Else That Threatens America.’ Arpaio has said ‘I can get elected on pink underwear… I’ve done it five times.'”

Initially Steven Spielberg and Amy Pascal‘s Pentagon Papers flick was known as The Post, and then as The Papers.  Today it officially went back to being called The Post.  A good enough title, I guess, but a bit sleepy.  No echoes or undercurrents.  We all know the logline — Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham gradually takes the bull by the horns when the Nixon administration attempts to suppress the printing of a once-secret history of governmental lying about the Vietnam War. What are the two greatest sounding award-season titles? Phantom Thread and Call Me By Your Name.

I’m no fan of Good Time, but the following statement by co-director Josh Safdie is exactly on-target as far as understanding where people are at in terms wanting or not wanting exposition and back-stories in movies.

“There’s zero exposition in [Dunkirk], to the point where you don’t even know who the characters are at times. But that adds to the element of the mass of people, of the experience of being one of 400,000. I think people are ready to move on from the idea of exposition, of ‘Let’s set it up and spoon-feed you information.’ I think, on an everyday basis, people do a lot of deduction in real life, especially when no one knows what’s real and what’s fake, and fake news this and that. I think people like to do their own detective work.” — Safdie speaking to Austin Chronicle‘s Richard Whittaker in an 8.18 interview.

“There are NO backstories or character fill-ins of any kind in Chris Nolan‘s Dunkirk, and it’s utterly wonderful for that.” — from “Origin Stories Can Kiss My Ass,” posted on 8.1.17.

It’s been 26 years since I suffered through Micheal Lehman‘s Hudson Hawk. I’d kinda forgotten the particulars, although it all came rushing back when I began watching clips. The only thing I liked about it was James Coburn playing George Kaplan. Not Coburn’s performance, mind, but screenwriters Steven de Souza and Daniel Waters‘ decision to pay tribute to North by Northwest‘s “non-existent decoy.”

No, I didn’t decide to hate Hudson Hawk because just about everyone trashed it or because it cost $65 million and earned $17.2 million or any of the other lynch-mob rationales. I hated it all on my lonesome because it struck me as smug and arrogant and unfunny, and because watching it was like being held down on the pavement as Bruce Willis and producer Joel Silver strolled over, bent down and farted in my face.

Go ahead — open your mind to Richard Brody’s revisionist assessment (“The Misunderstood Ambition of Hudson Hawk”) in the current New Yorker. It’s an intriguing argument, if unpersuasive. Because those YouTube clips don’t lie. Sink into that haughty attitude, those frosty vibes, that rot and corrosion.

And remember that Brody led the charge in that strangely successful campaign to elevate (resuscitate?) the reputation of Alfred Hitchcock‘s disastrous Marnie, which was verified when a 2015 BBC Culture poll ranked Marnie as #47 among the 100 Greatest American Films of all time. This led to one of the all-time greatest HE comments (“brenkilco” remarking that this Brody-led fraternity is “insidious and frightening…they’re just like ISIS except instead of beheading people they like Marnie“) but also to a 7.23.15 HE piece called “O Come All Ye Marnie Haters!”

Now Brody is trying to restore Hudson Hawk to respectability. Hey, why not? Larry Karaszewksi agrees with him. By all means read the piece, but also watch the below clip. In the space of 164 seconds it will start to drive you insane.

HE to Last Flag Flying and The Last Detail author Darryl Ponicsan: “How do you pronounce your last name anyway? I’ve been asking myself this for over four decades. Is it like moccasin? Is it PONNICKsahn? Is it POHN-nih-son?” Ponicsan to HE: “I sometimes regret not changing it. No one can spell it or pronounce it. It’s pronounced PAWN-ah-son. It’s Hungarian and has an accent, which I adopted a few years ago after having met a Ponicsán family in Budapest. Anyone with that name is related to me.” HE to Ponicsan: “Forget the accent mark. Pronouncing it correctly is difficult enough. How the hell the Hungarians decided on PAWN-ah-son is beyond me. It should obviously be pronounced POHN-nih-son.”

A couple of months ago Collective Learning‘s Rob Ager laid out 27 reasons why too many post-millenial movies have sucked (and are currently sucking) eggs. I’ve just listened to the whole 56-minute thing, and I swear to God that 90% to 95% of what Ager says is right on the money. Ager dismisses too many films and filmmakers, but I don’t seriously disagree with any of his points. (He hilariously states that he hasn’t really liked a single Chris Nolan film.) I have a quibble here and there, but he’s really addressing the Big Picture here. Here’s a written-out version of what he says, and here’s a timecode breakdown of his various points:

1:16 Lack of economic pacing / 2:10 Over-editing / 3:19 OCD cinematography / 5:14 OCD lighting / 7:12 Over-choreographed action / 9:10 Improper use of CGI / 11:41 Boring musical scores / 14:03 Over-compartmentalization of personnel / 15:27 Terrible casting / 16:23 Recycled symbols and metaphors / 19:13 Dumb heroes / 22:03 Mumbled dialogue / 23:26 Ever-increasing spectacle / 26:11 Blank canvas “art” movies / 29:04 The uncinematic world of I.T. communication / 31:49 Over-reliance on exposition / 34:23 Illegal downloading / 35:35 Blitz marketing instead of word-of-mouth / 36:52 Dependence on commercial and political advertising / 39:03 Brand-based filmmaking / 39:53 Fake reviews / 41:37 Expensive technical standards / 44:33 Ideological conformity / 47:05 Socially motivated viewing / 48:22 Redundancy of art in the face of mass communication / 51:35 Lack of visionary filmmakers.

8.26 update: I tapped out a similar list in April 2016, but here’s a refresh anyway. If you start with 1.1.00, the 21st Century is now 18 and 1/2 years old. By my count there are 117 films from this period that made a significant dent in the zeitgeist. If you haven’t seen the vast majority of these, you need to get cracking.

Since the beginning of 2010, or the start of the 21st Century’s second decade, at least 73 films that were and are really good opened commercially. 73 films within eight and a half years, or roughly nine per year. Add to these HE’s best of the first decade, which number 44, and you have 117. By the end of this year the tally will probably be at 122 or thereabouts.

Best of 2017 so far: Dunkirk, Call Me By Your Name, Graduation, Baby Driver (except for the last 15 minutes), Get Out, Personal Shopper (long-delayed commercial release), Logan (excessive violence excepted) (7)

Best of 2016: Manchester By The Sea, La La Land, Personal Shopper (Cannes/Toronto screenings), Elle, A Bigger Splash, The Witch, Eye in the Sky, Moonlight, Hell or High Water, The Confirmation, The Invitation. (11)

Best of 2015: Spotlight, The Revenant; Mad Max: Fury Road; Beasts of No Nation; Love & Mercy, Son of Saul; Brooklyn; Carol, Everest, Ant-Man; The Big Short. (12)

Best of 2014: Birdman, Citizen Four, Leviathan, Gone Girl, Boyhood, Locke, Whiplash, Wild Tales, Nightcrawler, Grand Budapest Hotel, It Follows. (11)

Best of 2013: The Wolf of Wall Street, 12 Years A Slave, Inside Llewyn Davis, Her, Dallas Buyers Club, Before Midnight, The Past, Frances Ha (8).

Best of 2012: Zero Dark Thirty, Silver Linings Playbook, Amour, Beasts of the Southern Wild, Barbara, The Grey, Moonrise Kingdom (7).

Best of 2011 (ditto): A Separation, Moneyball, Drive, Midnight in Paris, Contagion, X-Men: First Class, Attack the Block (7).

Best of 2010: The Social Network, The Fighter, Black Swan, Inside Job, Let Me In, A Prophet, Animal Kingdom, Rabbit Hole, The Tillman Story, Winter’s Bone (10).