From “Kevin McCarthy Surprised Us All,” the latest “Conversation” from N.Y. Times columnists Bret Stephens and Gail Collins:
Stephens on New Hampshire Primary Republicans: “Chris Christie should get out now and throw his support behind Nikki Haley. The only reason he got in the race in the first place was to chuck spears at Trump. It hit the wrong Donald — Duck, not Trump — and now all Christie is doing is dividing the anti-Trump field.
“I also wish Mike Pence would recognize reality and tuck back into bed with his wife of 38 years. That would give Haley a fighting chance to further destroy Vivek Ramaswamy and replace Ron DeSantis as the most plausible Republican alternative to Trump. But I have to admit, my hopes of Trump not being the nominee are dwindling fast.”
I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but only dolts and mediocre writers used the word “shock” in any context…shocker, shocking, he/she was shocked. For my money it’s used way too often by tabloid writers (British dailies, supermarket tabloids).
All I know is that if I’m reading a narrative or news story of any kind and the writer claims that shock reverberated in the room, I immediately say “okay, fuck that person…he/she is a liar or a fantasist or an exaggerator.”
I’ll allow that many people were shocked by 9/11, the JFK assassination and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, but in the vast majority of instances you need to use a substitute. It’s not that hard.
Even if you’ve actually experienced shock in some form, you’re a bit of a careless wordsmith if you write “shocker,” “I was shocked” or he/she/they were “shocked.” I’m serious.
The only way it’s okay to use the word is if you’re writing about certain films — Sam Fuller‘s Shock Corridor (’63), Jan Egleson‘s A Shock To The System (’90), etc.
Okay, it’s allowable to use the word “shocker” if you’re being facetious.
It’s also okay if you’re discussing earthquake aftershocks.
Shock is such a deeply offensive term that it’s almost a bad thing to mention Shaka Zulu (’86).
The only times Hollywood Elsewhere has used the word is in certain headlines, and headlines don’t count. I’ve never used it the body of the story, and if I’m mistaken I did so by accident. But over the decades I’ve been very conscious of this damn term, and careful never to use it.
HEtocommunity: One of the below sploogies has called PoorThings a “sex positive” film, and that’s fine. But what exactly does this mean? Can a film be “sex negative,” and if so how does it qualify as such?
A woman in an ‘80s or ‘90s WoodyAllen film asked “Is sex dirty?”, and Allen’s character answered “It is if you do it right.”
I saw Killers of the Flower Moon in Cannes last May, and gave it a B grade. Okay, a B-plus. Since then I’ve written about it from 49 different angles. And I absolutely intend to see it on an IMAX screen when it opens on 10.20. It’s a very well-made film, and it certainly warrants two viewings.
That said, it’s a woke flatliner. I can sense this in the air. In a perfect world Joe and Jane would swamp it like Barbenheimer, but my insect antennae signals are telling me perhaps not.
“One of the festival’s bigger headscratchers is that the latest from Martin Scorsese — a producer on Maestro — isn’t at the event. That would be Killers of the Flower Moon, which had its premiere in May at Cannes and will open theatrically Oct. 20.
“’We loved the film and invited it immediately after seeing it in Cannes,’ Dennis Lim, the artistic director of the New York Film Festival, told me. Days before the festival announced its main slate in August, however, Apple, which is releasing the movie, said that it would not be participating.
“As Lim noted, Flower Moon wasn’t in any of the other major fall festivals, which help usher films into the new season and onto the long road to the Oscars. (Apple could not be reached for comment.) Whatever the reason, its absence is a shame, especially because this is the event that 50 years ago presented a little film titled Mean Streets.”
The famous animal bone sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey lasts one minute and 54 seconds. It shows the moment in which Moonwatcher (DanRichter) discovers a certain killer instinct that will save his tribe from extinction.
My favorite part is the final six seconds, starting at 1:48. This is when Moonwatcher says “okay, that was cool, I now understand how to kill prey for food…and now that I’ve figured this out I’m going to throw the fucking bone in the air and forget about it.”
Which he does. And then he runs his fingers through the sand and starts…whatever, daydreaming.
I love this part…”fuck it, fuck the bone, I’m not doing this all day, I’m taking a break.”
The legendary Mr. Richter recently merging with Mozart:
But it’s nice to wade into the good old days when Nicholas Wending Refn had a good grip on things (i.e., before he went crazy or, you know, became excessive), and way before Ryan Gosling had submitted to the Barbie vaccine. Gosling was around 30 at the time; Carey Mulligan was 25 or thereabouts.
I knew right away, of course — it’s Heather Graham, who turned 53 eight months ago (i.e., 9.29.23). Alabaster complexion, white-ish blonde hair, zero makeup, aging gracefully.
BREAKING: The Philadelphia PD has just released this footage from a store in Northeast Philly called Richard & Son.
These actions can NEVER be justified, and I think it's fair to say that the vast, vast majority of Americans agree that this type of behavior should be dealt… pic.twitter.com/F1IzK7pgXS
Posted on 9.1.23: “I’ve just come out of Emerald Fennell‘s Saltburn, and it’s all about diseased psychologies and relentlessly dislikable people except for the delectably good-looking Jacob Elordi.
“It reeks of class hatred, oddness, perversity, arch upper-crust attitudes, callousness and class resentment, the slurping of dirty bath water, a nude Greek satyr finale featuring a fairly sizable schlongola, ‘wrong time of the month’ fingering + cunnilingus, high-impact visual punctuation for the sake of high-impact visual punctuation.
“Or, if you will, bold style amounting to absolutely nothing except bold style.
“Yeah, it’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, all right — Barry Keoghan, owner of the most famous and obtrusive bee-stung nose I’ve ever been forced to contemplate in film after film, is Matt Damon, and the incredibly beautiful Jacob Elordi is Jude Law, and Keoghan-the-interloper is one slinky, clumsy, weird-ass sociopath who hates himself, his parents, rich people, all people….he loves only Elordi except he’s not gay as much as (quoting Alison Oliver‘s Venetia character) a moth…a moth attracted to a glittery, super-wealthy flame.
“Saltburn is deeply divisive [among Telluriders], inspiring intense like-hate reactions…fans so far include Matt Neglia, Erik Anderson, Clayton Davis, Greg Ellwood. Haters include myself, DavidEhrlich, PeterDebruge, DavidRooney.
“I despised it so much that I took a 10-minute lobby break around the 70-minute mark.
“TheWrap‘s Tomris Laffly: ‘Saltburn works as a distinct and wildly entertaining probe into familiar waters of privilege, rather than the definite word on it.” Except it’s not a ‘distinct and wildly entertaining’ anything unless you have some kind of incurable aesthetic cancer festering inside you.”
