Director Martin Scorsese is currently editing Silence, which Paramount may or may not release this year. A recent cut of the film reportedly ran 195 minutes, which I’m sure Scorsese is looking to whittle down. Last weekend a startling intuition of Scorsese’s thoughts about the film flew into my head. I don’t know if he’s shared the following with his Paramount partners, but he might eventually convey something along these lines:

“I’m sitting here in the editing room with Thelma and flipping through a copy of Entertainment Weekly‘s fall movie preview issue, and you know what what I’m noticing? Silence isn’t even mentioned. As far as EW is concerned it doesn’t exist. That tells me something.

“A while back I told Roger Friedman that ‘it’s up to Paramount’ about when Silence will be released, but I’m getting a feeling, just a little inkling of a tingle of the hairs on the back of my neck, that you guys might be quietly thinking about bumping it into February or March of 2017, like you did with Shutter Island in 2010.

“Is that what you guys are thinking? You haven’t ‘dated’ it yet, and I think it’s fair of me to ask what’s going on.

“I’m not the delusional type. I know a lot of people out there are going to regard Silence, sight unseen, as a very tough sit. A three-hour historical persecution-and-torture movie set in 17th Century Japan starring…what did that guy write the other day?…a weepy, whining, constantly suffering Andrew Garfield, and without much screen time for Liam Neeson, who doesn’t even get to go all whoop-ass on the 17th Century Japanese persecutors.

“You guys have three serious Oscar ponies on your fall slate — Arrival, Allied and especially Denzel’s Fences. I’m not stupid. I’m not clueless. I can read the writing on the wall. At best you may be considering a small token qualifying release for Silence, just to get it out there before 12.31…right?

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The recent decision of former Rolling Stone critic Peter Travers to include Kenneth Lonergan‘s Manchester by the Sea on his list of the ten greatest 21st century films has greatly impressed Sasha Stone. Because this suggests a serious headwind for a Best Picture Oscar, or so she suspects. “Travers, Joe Morgenstern and Kenneth Turan are really your best critics in terms of sussing out what Academy voters might value,’ Stone explains. “With The Birth of a Nation mostly sidelined, can Manchester by the Sea become the first Sundance opener to win Best Picture? We’ve seen Cannes openers deliver winners (The Artist, No Country for Old Men), Toronto (The Hurt Locker) and Telluride (Spotlight, Birdman, 12 Years a Slave, Argo, The King’s Speech, Slumdog Millionaire) but so far, nothing from Sundance. Boyhood looked like it might be that movie. The Birth of a Nation looked like it might be that movie.”

In the wake of the December 1962 opening of Lawrence of Arabia, some lightweight comic called it “four hours of sand.” Last night I watched the new Criterion Bluray of Hiroshi Teshigahara‘s Woman in the Dunes (’64). This, trust me, is the ultimate, ultra-definitive sand movie. Two hours and 27 minutes of the stuff. Lots of bugs, putrid water in wooden buckets, a fascinating clink-clank score by Toru Takemitsu, a certain amount of nudity and sex, luscious black-and-white cinematography by Hiroshi Segawa, and all tied together with a story that has something to do with Sisyphus, frustration, claustrophobia and escaping from whatever your daily grind may be. I had this horrible feeling of little particles of sand all over my bod. Sand and bugs, sand and bugs. Sand in my hair, in my ear canal, under my fingernails, inside my socks…Jesus! I honestly took a shower after watching it. Woman in the Dunes is indisputably an austere arthouse landmark. It has my respect for all the things it does perfectly or at least precisely, but I’ll never watch it again — guaranteed.

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Based on a poll of 177 film critics, BBC.com has posted a roster of the 100 greatest films of the 21st Century. Because the BBC polled only scholastically correct, impressively credentialed dweeb types (and didn’t reach out to any unconventional clear-light samurai jazzmen like myself), their top 10 reflects a certain ivory-tower dweeb aesthetic. Here they are along with my comments:

1. David Lynch‘s Mulholland Drive (HE comment: trippy, striking, noteworthy but calm down); 2. Wong Kar Wai‘s In the Mood for Love (HE comment: The praise is almost entirely about Chris Doyle‘s cinematography); 3. Paul Thomas Anderson‘s There Will Be Blood (HE comment: Deserved); 4. Hayao Miyazaki‘s Spirited Away (HE comment: Not my cup but if you say so); 5. Richard Linklater‘s Boyhood (HE comment: Respectable, somewhat moving time-passage stunt film — overpraised during Oscar campaign). 6. Michel Gondry‘s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (HE comment: The older it gets, the less it seems to be — you don’t have to be a Gondry loyalist to be in love with this film, but it helps); 7. Terrence Malick‘s The Tree of Life (HE comment: Lubezki-captured dream-trip aesthetic totally devalued in hindsight by To The Wonder and Knight of Cups — Malick has eaten his own tail); 8. Edward Yang‘s Yi Yi: A One and a Two (HE comment: Never saw it); 9. Asghar Farhadi‘s A Separation (HE comment: Brilliant); 10. Joel and Ethan Coen‘s No Country for Old Men (HE comment: Ditto).

I posted a similar thing last April — a rundown of the best films of the second decade of the 21st Century along with a summary of the best of the first decade.

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Character actor Steven Hill (“Dan Briggs” in the original Mission Impossible series, “Adam Schiff” in Law and Order) has died at age 94. Hill’s performances were always sturdy. He always had a kind of melancholy, world-weary thing going on. For me the performance that stood out above all (and the one I instantly thought of when I heard of his death) was that outdoor park bench scene with Tom Cruise in Sydney Pollack‘s The Firm. Hill played FBI honcho F. Denton Voyles, and he made the following line stick: “I’m telling you that your life as you know it is over.” Hill, a strict follower of Judaism who killed his stage career by refusing to work Friday nights due to religious ritual, was 70 or 71 when The Firm was made. He never made another film after that. Honestly? If I was a theatrical or movie producer and an actor I liked told me “no work on Friday nights,” I wouldn’t hire him — simple as that.

Damian Chazelle‘s Los Angeles-based, ’50s-styled musical (debuting in Venice followed by Telluride and Toronto bows) should be titled La-La Land. The hyphen acknowledges that the two “La’s” are eternally bonded. The absence of a hyphen, on the other hand, suggests that one of the “La” guys might conceivably lose interest one day and move to Las Vegas or Vancouver. It’s just wrong, okay? Second thought: What if La La Land was Evita — an opera sans dialogue? I’m presuming it’ll follow the standard MGM ’50s musical style — dialogue, dancing and occasonally breaking into song with Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone doing their best. Third thought: It’s nice that Chazelle has created a lulling, soothing, magic hour-meets-starlight Los Angeles because the actual look of the place is not that. Not even slightly, I mean.

I like the bit with Gosling dancing with the older black woman on the pier — classic.

The cultural mix of Los Angeles used to be whites, Hispanics, blacks, Asians. Over the last 15 or 20 years it’s become more and more Iranian, at least in my neck of the woods, and yet somehow I’m doubting that the lifestyle aesthetic of wealthy “Persians” — ostentatious bling, flashy cars, hijabs, atrocious taste in architecture, conspicuous consumption — will be included in La La Land, which seems to be about recreating sound-stagey, Arthur Freed-style Los Angeles from the ’50s.

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Ten days ago I complained about IFC Films not having decided on a release date for Oliver Assayas‘ Personal Shopper. Today I wrote the following to IFC Films honcho Jonathan Sehring plus their publicity staff:

“If you ask me Personal Shopper is a knockout — an artful, unusual, arguably groundbreaking Kristen Stewart spooker.  Unless there’s something wrong with me it seems (and please tell me if you think I’m wrong) like an obvious Halloween attraction. You guys have had it since Cannes, where Assayas won the Best Director trophy (shared with Cristian Mungiu). It’s won rave reviews from key critics, has landed a NYFF berth, and is opening in England and other European territories (UK, France, Belgium) at the end of ’16. And you still haven’t given it a U.S. release date.

“This is the first Kristen Stewart film with a supernatural atmosphere since the Twilight saga, and it’s at least five times better than all the Twilight films put together, and yet you seem unsure about its potential. If you were going to release Personal Shopper in late October you surely would have announced that by now. Halloween is only ten weeks away so I guess we know the answer.

“You’re presumably uncertain because it drew a divided critical response in Cannes. For me this is one of the best films of the year so far (it’s my second favorite after Manchester by the Sea), and yet you haven’t settled on a damn release date. Two months ago I was told that you were thinking of bumping it into the late winter or spring of ’17. If you’re going to bail on a fall release, would you at least confirm this?

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Yesterday afternoon I asked occasional Awards Daily contributor Jordan Ruimy, who mainly files for The Playlist while writing his own online column, to join me for an Oscar Poker session. Jordan, who will soon move with his wife from Montreal to Boston, attended Sundance last January (he shared my condo) and also did Cannes, and he’ll be in Toronto. Plus he knows his stuff. We talked about the fall season in general, but the two hottest conversational topics were (a) why has IFC Films refused to firm a release date for Olivier Assayas‘ Personal Shopper? and (b) will Paramount even release Martin Scorsese‘s Silence this year? Again, the mp3.

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Who wouldn’t want to tag along on Barack Obama and Michelle Robinson‘s first date on a summer’s day in 1989 Chicago, when they were respectively 28 and 25? With an assurance that nothing too heavy or difficult will happen, and that the chatter will always feel right and real? Richard Tanne‘s Southside With You (Roadside, 8.26) is smart and centered. Likable, interesting, holds your attention, no sweat. I’ve seen it twice and could go again. Everyone will like the intelligent, open, glide-along vibe.

Barack (Parker Sawyers) is an obviously bright, mild-mannered preppy bro, working at Michelle’s Chicago law firm for the summer, smoking too much, more than a little bothered about his deceased dad’s “incomplete” life and less than resolved about what he wants to do after finishing Harvard Law. “Maybe” politics, he says.

Michelle (Tika Sumpter, who also produced) is more mature and focused but also wrapped a little too tight, at first guarded to the point of almost being brittle, and yet open and spirited when the mood shifts. She gradually relaxes but when things start she’s against the idea of going on a “date” with a “smooth-talking brother” because she doesn’t want her associates to chuckle about her getting cozy with the “cute” black guy, etc.

It all happens in Chicago’s South Side, a primarily black district that is referred to a couple of times as “the garden.” Barack picks her up around 1 pm in his shitty little car with a hole in the floorboard. They exchange the usual personal histories, preferences, etc. (He likes pie, she likes chocolate ice cream.) They catch an exhibition of black painter Ernie Barnes. They attend a community center meeting where Barack delivers an impromptu speech about acting in a less hostile fashion toward white Chicago establishment politicians who don’t seem to care about funding a community center. They go for beers, talk some more, and then catch a showing of Spike Lee‘s Do The Right Thing.

Which leads to the only socially awkward moment of their non-date, when Michelle runs into an older white attorney from her law firm, apparently a senior member, under the marquee, and then Barack returns from the bathroom and she’s mortified…busted! But the older white guy brightens and grins at the sight of Barack and it’s all easy and cool. Except, that is, for senior whitey’s opinion of the ending of Do The Right Thing (i.e., why did Mookie succumb to self-destructiveness by throwing the trash can through the window of the pizzeria?). Michelle is guarded and pissed again, so Barack stops at a Baskin-Robbins and buys her a chocolate cone. It ends with a kiss and a nice feeling as they return to their homes. Over and out.

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This morning the 54th New York Film Festival (9.30 to 10.16) announced a special world premiere screening of Ang Lee‘s Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk (TriStar, 11.1) on Friday, 10.14. Not at Avery Fisher Hall, mind, but at the AMC Lincoln Square, where the film will be projected with portions shown at 120 frames-per-second. The tech aspect alone has me all hopped up.

As I understand it Billy Lynn Pic is more or less an Iraq War Catch 22 with a little Flags of Our Fathers thrown in. Essentially a piece about projected fantasy and nationalistic delusion vs. the reality of warfare. Don’t we already know about all this? That families and communities can’t hope to understand what it’s like to be “in the shit,” and that they often express respect and thankfulness with overblown patriotic pageants and whatnot? Didn’t Clint Eastwood cover this through and through ten years ago?

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The following titles are believed to be Telluride ’16 attractions. They were posted earlier today on Jordan Ruimy‘s “Mind of a Suspicious Kind” website. (Michael’s Telluride Blog has the same titles.) I recorded an Oscar Poker podcast earlier today with Ruimy, a regular Playlist contributor. Soon to move to Boston from Montreal, Ruimy has been catching movies all year long and staying abreast of things and not ducking movies and hibernating like a bear from February through Labor Day, like another columnist I could mention. I ran these by a guy who knows stuff, and he had no arguments with these being likely Telluride entrees. He said, however, that the list doesn’t mention one major American film that is definitely going.

Arrival, d: Denis Villeneuve
Bleed For This, d: Ben Younger
The B-Side, d: Errol Morris
Defying the Nazis, d: Ken Burns
Fire at Sea, d: Gianfranco Rosi
Frantz, d: Francois Ozon
Graduation, d: Cristian Mungiu
Into the Inferno, d: Werner Herzog
Journey Through French Cinema, d: Bertrand Tavernier
La La Land, d: Damian Chazelle
Manchester By The Sea, d: Kenneth Lonergan
Maudie, d: Aisling Walsh
Moonlight, d: Barry Jenkins
Neruda, d: Pablo Larrain
Norman: The Moderate Rise and Tragic Fall of a New York Fixer, d: Joseph Cedar
The Red Turtle, d: Michael Dudok De Witt
Toni Erdmann, d: Maren Ade
Una, d: Benedict Andrews
Wakefield, d: Robin Swicord
Things to Come, d: Mia Hanse Love

Taken eons ago on Daytona Beach. I don’t feel good about the white loafers. I can’t explain the motive.

The Poor Cow clips that Steven Soderbergh used in The Limey were (a) desaturated, (b) fragmented, (c) sparse and (d) mostly soundless. Tonight, for the first time in my life, I get to see the full-color, all-in version of Ken Loach’s 1967 film. Along with the latest episode of The Night Of, of course.

Those are my blurry hands taking iPhone shots of Kristen Stewart during the May 2016 Personal Shopper. press conference in Cannes. I knew for sure because of the brown leather wristband.

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