Before global warming March in the tristate area tended to prompt morose meditations — more wintry than springy, damp, occasionally mild but just as often a climate best ignored. Daydreams of South Beach, Key West, Turks & Caicos.
But within the last few days the air has become warmish, standing on the Westport train station platform feels less miserable and trees are starting to think about sprouting leaves.
I’ve never seen Big Jim McClain (‘52 — John Wayne vs. Hawaiian Communists) but the term “treason trail” has recently become a mental irritant. James Arness and Nancy Olson costarred.
Robert Downey, Jr.’s bordering-on-bizarre evening wear (maroon tuxedoes, broadly flared suit pants, heavy-soled shoes) should be cause for alarm among decent Americans everywhere.
Some have been saying over the last 48 hours that if Kevin Costner‘s two-part Horizon: An American Saga is deemed Best Picture-worthy, guild and Academy members will have to either vote for Part One (which is opening on 6.28.24) or Part Two (opening on 8.16.24)j, but they can’t vote for Horizon as a single long film with two parts. One or the other.
What are they talking about? Of course they can vote for Horizon as a single entity!
The unified Lawrence of Arabia that we all know is a 227-minute, two-part film separated by an intermission.
After Part One ended at the two-hour mark, the music swelled, the word “Intermission” appeared, the film came to a stop and the lights came up. And then, 15 minutes later, Part Two began and ended 107 minutes later. That’s how it was shown. A lot of industry people voted for it in early ’63, and Lawrence would up winning the Best Picture Oscar.
But let’s imagine that instead of showing Lawrence in one big nearly-four-hour package (including intermission), Lean and Columbia Pictures decided to release Part One in early October of ’62 — a two-hour, World War I-era film about T.E. Lawrence, titling it Lawrence: Cairo to Aqaba. And then in early December they released Part Two, an 107-minute film called Lawrence: Despair and Downfall.
Lean and Columbia explain that they simply felt that the film could be better appreciated in two separate viewings. It’s still the same 227-minute movie — they just decided to show Part One and Part Two separated by two months rather than 15 minutes.
What kind of idiot would say “oh, no…you can’t do that! You can’t show Part One and Part Two eight weeks apart. If you show these films as a pair on a single evening, separated by a 15-minute intermission, fine, But if you can’t show two separate parts and expect us to vote on them as a single film experience….no way!”
What’s the difference between this and how Costner is planning to unveil Horizon, as a two-parter separated by several weeks between openings? Who would prefer it if Costner announced that both parts of Horizon will screen as a single experience, except it will last nearly five hours or maybe longer with an intermission? That sounds like a sore ass to me. I would rather see it in two separate viewing experiences.
I’ll soon be catching a 3.22 screening of Jonathan Parker and Marlo McKenzie‘s Carol Doda Topless At The Condor. Due respect to the life and legend of the late Carol Doda (i.e., the first-ever topless club dancer), but I’m mostly interested in the bizarre death of Condor Club manager Jimmy Ferrozzo. It happened right around Thanksgiving of 1983. The “beefy” 40-year-old Ferrozzo was crushed to death by a white, hydraulically-lifted piano while he was doing the deed with one of the club’s strippers, 23 year-old Theresa Hill.
Michael Mohan and Andrew Lobel‘s Immaculate opens on 3.22. Is it okay if I pass? Of course it is. I don’t know which genre I hate more — Millennial/Zoomer horror or big-studio animation.
39,000 TikTokers have watched and presumably approved of this childish, pathetic and deeply racist video. The message, obviously, is that the world has too many whiteys, but this drooling moron doesn’t mention the various percentages of white people vs. communities of color in various countries. It’s the percentages that matter. Of the 120 million people living in Brazil, for example, 56% are Black. 14.2 % of the U.S. population identifies as Black, and roughly 59% are white.
This isn’t a definitive, comprehensive correction of yesterday’s “Eliminating 2024 Best Picgture Contenders” piece, but just a post that adds a few titles. The idea, remember, was to differentiate between films that might have a shot at being in the late ’24 and early ’25 Oscar race, and those that obviously haven’t a prayer.
I didn’t mention Jon Watts‘ Wolfs, a George Clooney-Brad Pitt “psychological thriller” of some kind. Why they’ve gone with the non-grammatical Wolfs rather than Wolves is anyone’s guess.
Nor did I mention Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu (how many damn Dracula films have I sat through?…how many more to come?), Justin Kurzel’s The Order (white supremacist baddies), Duke Johnson’s The Actor, Ron Howard’s <em>Eden and Richard Linklater’s Nouvelle Vague (currently filming).
I should have included Alex Garland‘s Civil War as a possible Best Picture contender. Obviously my error but as I mentioned a couple of days ago that there’s no trusting SXSW buzz.
I also should have mentioned Terrence Malick’s The Way of the Wind but any film that’s been in post since 2019 has to be regarded askance or at least with a degree of suspicion.
Speaking as a huge fan of Audrey Diwan’s Happening, her forthcoming Emmanuelle…well, who knows but it appears to be a sapphic variation on Just Jaeckin’s 1974 original, which was primarily about softcore titillation.
Clint Eastwood’s Juror No. 2 also should have been mentioned; ditto Luca Guadagnino’s Queer, a script version of which I’ve been sent and have read about half of.
When Chris Halverson had the temerity to suggest that David Leitch‘s The Fall Guy might become this year’s Barbie or Top Gun, I responded as follows: “You’re farting around by even mentioning this kind of flotsam in an award-season context. You can totally, absolutely forgetThe Fall Guy, obviously a wank-off, jizz-whiz distraction, in any sort of award-season context. Leitch (John Wick, Bullet Train) is clearly a soul-less popcorn exploiter who’s only in it for the money and the cheap highs.”
I was need to repeat this passage: “Paul Mescal and Barry Keoghan are problematic, anti-charismatic actors who alienate as much as attract. At least from HE’s perspective. In my view they are human torpedoes with a bizarre gyroscopic mechanism that causes the cylindrical device to do a 180 once fired and head right back towards the launching submarine. Beware of Keoghan and Mescal!”
The best HE comment about Kevin Costner’s Horizon came from Naido: “Costner is more woke than people remember — he’s just not a post-2016 obsessive. I think his movie will be 10-years-ago-liberal, which will sail by in 2024 though it would’ve taken a beating from 2016-2022. Winds are changing just a bit.”
Back in the bad old 20th Century “hook nose”, a perjorative term about Jews, was used here and there. Wikipedia has a “Jewish nose” page, and the first sentence reads as follows: “The Jewish nose, or the Jew’s nose, is an antisemitic ethnic stereotype, referring to a hooked nose with a convex nasal bridge and a downward turn of the tip of the nose.”
And yet some people of various Middle Eastern tribes (Hebrew, Arab and others) do have hook noses — they’re an anatomical fact of life. And one of them, inescapably and undeniably, belongs to Bob Dylan. Look at the two photos below — there’s no debate.
And yet the fake (i.e., prosthetic) Dylan nose currently being worn by Timothee Chalamet as the filming of James Mangold‘s A Complete Unknown gets underway, is clearly a modified Dylan schnozz — i.e., definitely not hooky.
Why is it an “almost” Dylan nose rather an actual, accurate one? Because Complete Unknown director James Mangold is terified of igniting the same kind of negative social media reaction that slightly tarnished Bradley Cooper‘s Maestro, despite the fact that his Leonard Bernstein prosthetic nose looked totally fine in the film — it just seemed a wee bit extreme in a single black-and-white photo.
Mangold is still taking no chances. He undoubtedly told his makeup department to err on the side of caution. They’ve apparently succeeded.
A Complete Unknown is a ’60s biopic about Dylan transitioning from acoustic folk to electric rock. It costars Elle Fanning, Edward Norton, Nick Offerman, Monica Barbaro and Boyd Holbrook.
From HE’s mid-March perspective, there’s only one 2024 film that looks, sounds and stomps around like a meat-and-potatoes Best Picture contender.
That would be Kevin Costner‘s two-part Horizon: An American Saga (Warner Bros., Chapter One on 6.28, Chapter Two on 8.16).
But of course, wokester Oscar handicappers (i.e., Clayton Davis and the gang) are already against it because it’s about “the expansion of the American west” (i.e., white settlers in covered wagons rolling through Native American territory), and because the Yellowstone-linked Costner is generally perceived as too white, too old and too conservative. One thing’s for sure, and that’s that Lily Gladstone probably won’t be approving this film any time soon! But at least it’s big and eye-filling and going for the big chomp.
I’m putting my money on Horizon and, I suppose, Steve McQueen‘s Blitz because they feel semi-urgent and seem to be occupying their own turf, and have probably figured themselves out to some extent. They may amount to something Oscar-wise because of the commanding energy of their directors.
Otherwise 2024 is clearly looking fairly weak. Last year’s strikes (SAG and WGA) all but ruined our current annum. I’m just going to plow through some of the Best Picture contenders and explain why most of them don’t seem formidable or flinty enough or otherwise unlikely to connect with Joe and Jane Popcorn.
The whizbag stuff aside, Horizon and Blitz seem like the only two 2024 films that don’t feel cloistered or woked up or seemingly guilt-trippy or generally confined and audience-punishing.
Steve McQueen‘s Blitz (Apple Original Films)…London blitzed by German bombs in early 1940s…likely Best Actress action for Saoirse Ronan…strong contender that I was hoping would debut in Cannes two months hence, but now I’m hearing “maybe not” and that Venice/Telluride is more likely.
Edward Berger‘s Conclave (Focus Features)…based on 2016 Robert Harris novel, British-American thriller about finding a successor to a suddenly deceased Pope. Written by Peter Straughan. Costarring Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow and Isabella Rossellini. Good reviews, probably not happening.
Ridley Scott‘s Gladiator 2 (Paramount, 11.22) gets an automatic demerit (if not a disqualification) because the dreaded Paul Mescal has the principal lead role, and secondly because Pedro Pascal is costarring, These two guys can kill any film of any kind. A supporting Denzel Washington (playing a former slave-turned-wealthy arms and commodity dealer with a grudge against the emperors”) is the only reason to feel aroused.
Denis Villeneuve‘s Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)…likely Best Picture nomination but won’t win.
Robert Zemeckis‘s Here…interesting concept…”the events of a single room and its inhabitants spanning from the past to well into the future”, etc.
Joshua Oppenheimer‘s The End (Neon)…post-apocalyptic, bad whitey guilt=trip film….”a wealthy family lives in an underground bunker two decades after the end of the world, which they directly contributed to”….forget it. Tilda Swinton, George MacKay, Moses Ingram, Michael Shannon.
Chris Sanders‘ The Wild Robot (DreamWorks animated)….forget it…a robot Cast Away…not a chance, get outta town.
Andrea Arnold‘s Bird…an automatic problem due to HE anathema Barry Keoghan (weirdo, bee-stung nose) being the star.
Yorgos Lanthimos‘s Kinds of Kindness (Searchlight)….three-part antholoogy…not this time.
Francis Coppola‘s Megalopolis…ambitious, self-funded, out there…do you honestly believe Coppola will slamdunk this? Caveat emptor.
RaMell Ross‘s The Nickel Boys (Amazon MGM Studios/Orion)…abusive Florida reform school drama…white baddies, moral condemnation, constant audience punishment.
Malcolm Washington‘s The Piano Lesson (Netflix)…reasonable expectation of good reviews, probably not happening as a Best Picture contender.
Mike Leigh‘s Hard Truths…maybe but doubtful. You know Leigh.
Pablo Larrain‘s Maria…I don’t want to watch another Larrain film about a mythic, tragic or headstrong female character ever again.
“And you were right to praise it. It’s a terrific serving of meticulous, old-school filmmaking, beautifully directed and shot, with a top-notch cast (Jean Desjardin is sensational) and a story that builds and builds until you are emotionally and intellectually wiped out at the end. Just a beautiful piece of work.
“I’ve long been interested in the Alfred Dreyfus case, not just because I’m Jewish but because Emile Zola is one of my favorite authors, and what he did with J’Accuse was an act of true bravery, going up against the French establishment in such a fearless and principled way, which most likely cost him. It has long been suspected that Zola was murdered by enemies who blocked his chimney flue, causing him to die of carbon monoxide poisoning. He’s a real hero of mine.
“Anyway, the fact that Polanski’s film cannot be shown here is a tragedy for two reasons. One, it’s a monumental piece of work from a great director, and two, given the rise in anti-semitism these days, it seems particularly timely and necessary to absorb. So thank you, Jeff, for sending me this link. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness and generosity.”
Umpteenth HE message to #MeToo Stalinists: It’s been four and 1/3 years since the world premiere of An Officer and A Spy at the 2019 Venice Film Festival, and to this day Polanski’s film is still unreleased theatrically or on home video in the US, the UK, Australia and New Zealand.
This is because the #MeToo brigade refuses to acknowledge the fact that the moral behavior of a given artist and the quality of the art created by this artist are two entirely different things. They reside in two entirely separate boxes.
And yet you persist in believing that Polanski’s rep must be permanently tarred and feathered and therefore J’Accuse, too, must be buried or otherwise scrubbed from existence. Because of reputedly credible accusations of Polanski having behaved badly and perhaps even criminally with certain younger women in the ’70s and ’80s. And because the distribution community is terrified of what you’ll say and do if one of their number would even consider streaming J’Accuse.
Polanski the man is not the same package as Polanski the artist. His depiction of awful or ghastly things in his films (he’s never explored Pollyanic fantasy and escapism) has never conveyed a corrosion or poisoning of his own spirit. He understands what goes, how it all works, who the good guys are. This is quite evident in the recently restored The Pianist as well as J’Accuse.
You should understand that this is not a good look for #MeToo, not just now but for all time to come.
Once again, consider a 6.21.12N.Y. Times article called “Good Art, Bad People“, written by Charles McGrath.
When you hit the This Is Me…Now Wiki page, it says “redirected from Greatest Love Story Never Told“…what?
I’m here to receive instruction…seriously. I don’t know where one begins and the other ends….I know nothing except that we seem to be talking about a lot of self-love here.
A friend has called Bleeding (now in its second weekend) “pretty good, like the Greg Araki version of Thelma and Louise, roughly.”
I respected the madhouse aspect, and the fact that it’s hungrily, aggressively sexual. (Which, as previously noted, present-day filmmakers are discouraged from exploring in a heterosexual way**.) Lotsa smooching, slurping, fingering and muff-diving,
Bleeding is like a backwater volcano that spews more and more lava. And it really uncorks the madness during the final third…subversive in a way that I didn’t see coming.
Previously noted: “I flinched a bit when the Glass went in for some light toe-chewing — sorry but the toes in question struck me as too thick and knobby. A voice inside went ‘eeeww, no…too much.'”
