You can bet that the 91-year-old Stevens, with whom I briefly conversed a decade ago and who spoke to me derisively and snobbishly, will sidestep any mention of The Great Shane Aspect Ratio Bluray Skirmish of 2013 — a conflict that happened between March and April of that year.
Many of us were appalled by the 1.66 thing — a cleavering that would have unmistakably compromised Loyal Griggs‘ original compositions. As we all recall, Warner Home Video ultimately folded and decided to issue the Shane Bluray in the original 1.37:1 aspect ratio. All’s well that ends well.
Last night I watched Nick Broomfield‘s The Stones and Brian Jones, which is basically about how Jones started the Rolling Stones 61 years ago (at age 20 he advertised for bandmates in the 5.2.62 edition of Jazz Weekly) and was the band’s “uncontested leader” until they began to move away from blues covers in ’65 due to Mick Jagger and Keith Richards beginning to write more and more of their own material.
Jones resented the dilution of the Stones’ blues cover band identity and particularly Jagger-Richards becoming more dominant figures and Jones becoming less of one.
Alas, when the druggy-mystical period of the mid to late ’60s kicked in Jones became more and more of a hostile, sullen, indifferent or undermotivated fellow and certainly a major druggie, contributing less and less to the band’s album output.
The Stones fired his scowling, resentful ass in June of ’69, and Jones drowned in his swimming pool on 7.3.69.
The Stones and Brian Jones is therefore a cautionary tale that says “adapt or die.”
Jones was fine as long as the Stones were playing Muddy Waters, Slim Harpo and Howlin’ Wolf covers, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t submit to the Jagger-Richards era. He basically sulked himself to death.
Broomfield doesn’t touch the fact that Jones was short but he was — only 5’6″, or roughly the same height as Alan Ladd and at least an inch shorter than Frank Sinatra. I once read a Jagger quote in which he called Jones “just a little guy.” Do you think he used this description because he admired his stature?
Jagger to Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner in ’95, answering whether or not he felt guilty about driving Jones to despair and apparent suicide:
“No, I don’t really. I do feel that I behaved in a very childish way, but we were very young, and in some ways we picked on him. But unfortunately, Brian made himself a target for it. He was very, very jealous, very difficult, very manipulative, and if you do that in this kind of a group of people you get back as good as you give, to be honest.
“Plus I wasn’t understanding enough about his drug addiction. No one seemed to know much about drug addiction. Things like LSD were all new. No one knew the harm. People thought cocaine was good for you.”
Broomfield’s doc (co-written by Broomfield and MarcHoeferlin) is very good and a lot of fun in its spirited recollections of the ’62 to ’65 era. Recommended viewing.
A second poll is claiming that Mumbling Joe is polling significantly behind The Beast.
Right now, Biden is polling above where Jimmy Carter was in ’79 but two points below where Trump was in ’20. Even Zoomers and Millennials are siding more with Trump….what the fuck? It’s the age thing, for God’s sake — nobody wants a doddering, slurry-voiced, neck-waddled great grandfather running the show.
If Joe hangs tough and loses to Trump, his name will be mud for generations because he will have set the stage for a tyrannical, sociopathic, anti-Democratic bully boss to reclaim power when all the indications are/were that Joe would lose. Good God, how blind can everyone be?
Given that a generic Democrat is polling ahead of Trump right now, the responsible thing would be for Joe to bail on his re-election bid and let Gavin Newsom step in.
David Poland very rarely blurts it outbut when he does, he’s great.
I reviewed THE MARVELS, which was NOT GOOD, though Iman Vellani still came out a winner. I'd never seen an episode of MS. MARVEL before so she really impressed me. As for the rest? Time for Mr. Feige to clear house, as the Parliament ain't getting it done. https://t.co/zbIWf3Qeg9
DATE: 11.8.23
FROM: Jeffrey Wells, Hollywood Elsewhere
TO: Caroline Ross, general manager, AMC Royale 6 in Westport, CT.
RE: Screen illumination levels
Caroline,
I’m Jeffrey Wells of www.hollywood-elsewhere.com, and I’m writing to convey concern about the screen light levels (or foot lambert levels) at the AMC Westport Royale plex, which, I’ve been told, you’re the general manager of.
I’ve been attending the Cannes Film Festival for 23 years, and when I saw Killers of the Flower Moon at the Sally Debussy last May the images were fully rendered and totally satisfactory.
When I saw Killers at the Westport Royale 6 a couple of weeks ago the images were noticably subdued, a bit muddy, murky…clearly being presented at lower-than-intended light levels. Like the sun was behind the clouds.
I had the exact same impression when I watched Priscilla there a few days ago. It was as if the story was happening inside a barely illiuminated closet or a shadowy shoebox of some kind. The images made me feel trapped. Depressed even. No one’s life has ever been this dark, not even Priscilla Presley‘s during her perverse marriage to Elvis.
In order to check this you need to own a light meter, and with this device you have to check the light levels without a movie playing — you have to check with just pure light being thrown on to a blank screen.
Do you own a proper light meter? Have you checked the light levels on all your screens? If so, what are the foot lambert readings? Do they meet SMPTE’s recommendations? I’d be greatly surprised if they’re between 14 and 16. As noted, the Westport Royale images are definitely subdued.
I say this knowing that AMC hasn’t employed projectionists for many years — it’s all done through some kind of soul-less computerized system.
I was loaded down with stuff to see at Telluride ’23, and I’m sorry but Fernando Trueba and Javier Mariscal‘s They Shot The Piano Player wasn’t on my priority list. That said…
It was unseasonably warm when this snap of Daniel Day Lewis, 66, and Bradley Cooper, 48, was shot during an allegedly recent Manhattan stroll. Right away you’re thinking Cooper wants DDL to come out of retirement. Lewis has presumably seen Maestro.
Both men are obviously in excellent shape, but clothing-wise they’re on separate planets.
Cooper’s royal blue T-shirt is totally high-thread-count and blends with the slim-straight jeans. He obviously calculated that if he was wearing canary-yellow sneakers (an HE footwear thing for years) he had to wear a bright yellow cap along with the derigeur tinted shades. Nothing says “I am a hotshot celebrity who fancies a 21st Century Greta Garbo attitude!” like this headgear combo.
Lewis’ gray-with-white-pinstripe shirt looks a tiny bit rednecky, and I don’t know what to say about that tired, droopy-ass orange scarf. And what’s up with the largemermaidtattoo on his left arm? Nice belt buckle but the dad jeans are too long and bulky, and the Maine lumber yard work boots…okay, they’re not a problem per se but there’s something “fuck you”-ish about them.
Look at DDL’s vaguely pissed-off expression. This is a man who gets up in the morning and says, “Okay, what can I scowl at?”
I wasn’t looking forward to NYAD, having heard mostly mezzo-mezzo responses since Telluride. But you know what? It isn’t half bad. And I really admired Annette Bening’s titular performance as well as Jodie Foster’s best friend-slash-trainer performance, which everyone feels should be a Best Supporting Actress nominee. I’ll elaborate later but this a completely decent sports saga about dogged, never-say-die persistence. Bening’s willingness to jump into the rage pool and expose herself outside the vanity realm is quite brave and in keeping with Nyad’s personality…seriously impressive.
I’ve re-watched Steven Soderbergh‘s utterly brilliant, reality-grounded Traffic three or four times since it opened on 12.27.00. I’ve rewatched Ridley Scott‘s efficiently made but overly emphatic Gladiator exactly zero times since it opened on 5.1.00. What does that tell you or at least suggest?
[Paywall-posted on 5.5.23] A reasonably decent HE parody piece, posted earlier today by Seasonal Aflac Disorder:
“I’m lying in the L.A. County morgue, literally and figuratively chilling, and I hate to admit I’ve left a much nicer corpse than some of my fellows filed in the other cabinets. What the hell with all the gas and sounds? Have some dignity, Jesus. They took out the vitals and weighed them yesterday on the scale with good numbers all around, much better than anyone else in here.
“The amount of obesity, male pattern baldness and poor dentistry — all avoidable with visits to Prague or Tijuana, respectively — that could have been avoided is irritating beyond belief. One young woman left a nice corpse, and honestly, I can tell she appreciated the work I put into myself. The morlock who catalogued my clothing could hardly appreciate my fine Italian loafers and carelessly threw them in the cardboard box, and in so doing wrinkled my linen slacks.
“So far the afterlife is fairly mezzo mezzo, if you know what I mean. I expected some big flash of white light or something, not a flowing-robed Jesus or bullshit like that, but c’mon! Death, honestly, feels a lot like Parasite when they let the maid back in…”
[Postedon5.4.15] The very first time I’ve ever heard that familiar John Williams theme coming out of a wooden, 1930s-era radio. It’ll probably turn out to be the last time. The radio is located at Dun-Well Doughnuts on Montrose near Bushwick. But that’s not the point.
The waitress behind the counter spoke with the usual mincing, sexy-baby, beep-uh-duh-beep-beep vocal fry. When she asked if I wanted soy or almond milk (as they have no dairy), it sounded like “deebeedeesoyahahmand?” Uhm…are you asking if I want regular or low-fat milk? “M’sayingweeyonlyhavesoyahmand.” Soy or…? “Soyahamand.” Which is the least problematic? “Soy.”
