From Todd McCarthy‘s 2014 Sundance review in The Hollywood Reporter: “The generically titled War Story is a rigorous and enigmatic behavioral study of a professional photographer traumatized by what she’s recently experienced in a combat zone. Fronted by an outstanding performance from Catherine Keener, who is onscreen, often by herself, at almost every moment, this challenging but not difficult second feature from Mark Jackson parcels out its information in gradual increments, forcing the viewer to infer rather simply receive most narrative information.

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The Declaration of Independence, adopted on July 4, 1776, proclaimed that the 13 American colonies were detaching themselves from English rule and were therefore free and independent states — quite a brave thing, raised quite a rumpus. The United States of America would not become relatively united and cohesive until after the end of the Civil War, of course, but for 130 years the U.S. of A. at least approximated the idea of a nation more or less bonded by shared beliefs, convictions and social goals. That’s obviously no longer true. Today and beyond the U.S. of A. is impossibly divided and never the twain shall meet. The right has gone totally around the bend. The urban Blues are the Czech Republic and the rural Reds are Slovakia, and I really think it’s time for the Czechs to sign a new Declaration of Independence and cut those bozos loose.

It’s not a rumor — the brown areas are where the least affluent, most downmarket, under-educated and culturally resentful U.S. citizens reside. If you can’t re-educate them the next best thing is to isolate them & let them stew in their own juices.

Yes, I wrote about this 15 months ago but I’m talking about the saddest and most personally screwed-up voters (poor health, obese, boozing, cigarette-smoking, gun-owners, living hand-to-mouth in trailer parks or foreclosed homes, driving gas guzzlers, poorest educational systems, highest divorce rates) who live in West Virginia, Kentucky, Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Alabama, Ohio, Louisiana, Indiana and Oklahoma…in that order.

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I believe in forgiveness and offering second chances, but a lot of industry people reportedly don’t feel that way about director Randall Miller, whose apparent negligence and/or recklessness while shooting Midnight Rider on February 20th led to the train-trestle death of Sarah Elizabeth Jones. After dragging ass for too many months, prosecutors in Georgia’s Wayne County yesterday charged Miller, his producer wife Jody Savin and unit production manager Jay Sedrish with involuntary manslaughter and criminal trespass. They’re all looking at prison time above and beyond what they’re facing in civil court, including a wrongful-death lawsuit filed by Jones’ parents. I’m sure the defendants will mount a vigorous defense but the best thing for Miller and Savin, image- and industry-wise, is to cut a deal with prosecutors in which they’ll do time for a year or so. Then the yoke will be lifted and they’ll be looking at a clean slate. People will feel sympathy (“Who hasn’t made a mistake or two?”) and give them another shot. Robert Mitchum was in a dicey career position when he was busted for pot in 1948, but his image was almost enhanced after he manned up and did 48 days in a minimum-security facility. Bonus: Miller and Savin could then make a documentary or even a feature about the Midnight Rider tragedy as a way of atoning and offering tribute to Jones.

I was already sorry about the passing of Harold Ramis last February. I didn’t need any help in that regard. But after watching this just now I’m a little more sorry. Sorry. I know this scene is just a calculated James L. Brooks massage but it gets me anyway. I didn’t know Ramis at all (spoke to him maybe two or three times) but the gentle vibe was real.

Aspect-ratio scholar Bob Furmanek, the man most responsible for persuading distributors to cleaver various 1950s films on Bluray over the last four or five years, explained today why a 1.37:1 aspect ratio is correct for Laslo Benedek‘s The Wild One (12.30.53). “When determining whether or not a film was composed for widescreen,” Furmanek reminded, “the dates of production must be determined.” The Marlon Brando motorcycle drama was filmed between 2.12.53 to 3.17.53, or a little before Columbia’s 1.85 mandate went into effect in March/April of that year. A high-def 1.37 version is viewable on Vudu, and a new 1.37 German Bluray has been reviewed on DVD Beaver.

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Last night and for no particular reason I re-watched Peter Bogdanovich‘s Directed by John Ford, which came out on DVD in ’09. It’s a valentine, a journey, a meditation. Eight years ago I did a phoner with Bogdanovich about the doc. I gave it a fresh listen this morning, and I was moderately impressed. It’s a reasonably decent discussion as these things tend to go.

Here’s a portion of the 11.6.06 article that contained the mp3: “I’ve tried and it’s impossible — there’s no feeling just one way about John Ford. His movies have been wowing and infuriating me all my life, and after seeing Peter Bogdanovich‘s Directed by John Ford — an expanded, unexpectedly touching documentary about the legendary helmer that will show twice on Turner Classic Movies Tuesday evening — the muddle is still there.

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The sixth edition of David Thomson‘s New Biographical Dictionary of Film arrived yesterday on my doorstep. I’ll now regard it as the Marilyn Monroe version. It’s the best all-time reference book about films in the world. It simply has to be on one’s living-room bookshelf or at least on your iPad or Kindle…no arguments. I’ve owned every edition since…when did it begin, the mid ’80s? The book never loses its pungency. I can pick it up any old time and get lost in seconds flat. Some of Thomson’s appraisals are more than brilliant — I could go on for hours but try “bitter”, “hilarious”, “cruel”, “pithy”, “devastating”, “delicious”, “serene”, etc. I know I’m supposed to acknowledge the new arrivals and the new focus on cable stars (Gandolfini, Cranston), etc. Read the following excerpts from Thomson’s profiles of Fred MacMurray and Madonna after the jump. If they don’t persuade, you’ll never be persuaded.

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I don’t know who “Soapbxprod” is but some time ago he/she posted (a) color footage taken by Roddy McDowall of a 1965 Labor Day gathering at Rock Hudson‘s Malibu home (Jane Fonda, Julie Andrews, etc.) and (b) fascinating silent footage of the shooting of From Here to Eternity [after jump] at Oahu’s Scofield Barracks in late ’52 or early ’53 — Fred Zinneman, Burt Lancaster, Frank Sinatra, Deborah Kerr. “Found in National Archives, lost and forgotten…original 16mm was telecined to Digital Betacam in 1998, a U-Matic dub with visible time code was made for editing,” etc.

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Last September I saw half of John Ridley‘s Jimi — All Is By My Side at the Toronto Film Festival and was immediately impressed. I finally saw all of it at last month’s Los Angeles Film Festival. I was convinced all the more that Andre Benjamin‘s performance as the late Jimi Hendrix is one of the year’s stand-outs. The role is more about layers than revelations. The film doesn’t deliver conventional dramatic moments as much as a low-key immersion into a guy who lived deep within his soul but wildly and exuberantly transformed when he performed. Benjamin (i.e., Andrew 3000) totally captures Hendrix’s manner, vibe, voice…that gentleness, that ambivalent but spiritually directed mood-trip thing. XLrator Media will be releasing Jimi: All Is By My Side theatrically on 9.26.14.

Condolences to the family and friends of the late Louis Zamperini, the former Olympic athlete and World War II survivor of a Pacific Ocean plane crash and Japanese prisoner-of-war camp who went to become an inspirational speaker and lived to the ripe old age of 97. Ditto his legions of admirers. Zamperini passed yesterday in Los Angeles. Sorry. Hats off.

Zamperini’s life was turned into a book by Laura Hillenbrand and then adapted into a forthcoming Oscar-bait film, Unbroken (Universal, 12.25), by director Angelina Jolie and screenwriters Joel and Ethan Coen, Richard LaGravenese and William Nicholson. Jack O’Connell (whom I admired in ’71 after catching it at the Berlinale last February) portrays Zamperini in the film.

All along the word about Jolie’s Unbroken has been that it’s not so much another survival-at-sea film (a la Life of Pi and All Is Lost) as an inspirational piece about a man’s indomitable spirit. I haven’t read any of the drafts, much less Hillenbrand’s book, but the film may contain a thematic undercurrent that I haven’t paid attention to until now.

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