Yogi Berra-isms don't lack for insight -- they're just sloppily worded. What follows are the originals with HE improvements & explanations.
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I still haven't seen J.T. Rogers and Michael Mann's Tokyo Vice (HBO Max, 4.7), but I know two things.
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7:27 pm: What was funny about Regina King holding up a screener of The Last Duel while saying that no one has seen it? Or Wanda Sykes holding up a shredded Texas ballot — good point but not funny.
7:19 pm: What am I mostly feeling while watching the Oscars? What is the one thought that keeps repeating in my head? “I can’t wait to attend the 2022 Cannes Film Festival…that God for that forthcoming adventure.”
7:04 pm: Congrats to Belfast‘s Kenneth Branagh for winning the Best Original Screenplay. And to CODA‘s Sean Heder for winning Best Adapted Screenplay. Heder is thanking the phone book, but that’s what winners sometimes do. Friendo: “The two best speeches both belonged to CODA. Because they had emotion. Branagh’s speech was classy and succinct and gracious.”
6:55 pm: This is basically a folks-of-color Oscar telecast…a rainbow inclusion pageant…a vigorous and passionate representation factor for Latinos, African Americans, Asian, LGBTQs. In this sense it’s fairly similar to the Union Station atmosphere in that the industry’s mostly (am I allowed to say this?) European-descended majority is…uhm, subordinate? Not all that vigorously represented. But that’s okay. Academy sentiments are Academy sentiments. We’re living through a time of progressive change. Incidentally: The Latin dance number is pretty terrific.
6:45 pm: Costume design Oscar for Cruella — Jenny Beavan! A brilliant designer, hugely respected, great smile.
6:38 pm: So far the show is playing a little better than last April’s Soderbergh disaster, but not that much better. Friendo text: “Arianna DeBose has made history as the first openly queer woman to win an Oscar. Fine and good and obviously approvable, but I’m not really feeling the current. The whole community i/s supportive…queer artists are not the underdogs.”
6:20 pm: Time to hand CODA‘s Troy Kotsur his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. Troy’s signed acceptance speech is very moving – the first poignant moment of the show. Congrats to Troy — a very fine delivery of evolved humanity. Especially his tribute to his dad. Quote: “Don’t forget to eat this spinach.” He’s going on a little long, but it’s a heart moment…fully earned and felt.
6:17 pm: Wanda Sykes (fresh outfit) introducing a promo for the Academy Museum — i.e., “Woke House.”
6:13 pm: The Best Animated Short Oscar goes to Windshield Wiper.
6:07 pm: Best Animated Feature goes to Encanto. Great, congrats, whatever.
Apology to HE readership: I’m firing Siteground, my Eastern European ISP, for that infuriating 500 internal server error. I’ve been pleading with them to fix or offer a solution I would have to implement. They’re history — incompetent bastards. Again, I apolgize.
5:55 pm: The 60th anniversary of the James Bond franchise? Dr. No opened in England on 10.5.62, but not until May 1963 in the States. So even by British exhibition standards the Bond franchise is 59 and 1/3 years old. Friendo: How is this playing at home?” HE to friendo: “Blah, meh, woke, flat. Something needs to happen.”
5:52 pm: Another Dune Oscar, this time to Best Visual Effects. Terrific. When is this show going to come alive?
5:44 pm: The Oscar telecast is 45 minutes old, and I’m not feeling anything. At all. Nothing. Friendo: “Is this as bad as I think it is? So far woke. Are you watching?” HE to friendo: “I’m watching and waiting.”
5:40 pm: A minor tribute to the White Men Can’t Jump guys (Woody, Rosie, Snipes)? And the Best Cinematography Oscar goes to Dune and Greig Fraser.
5:35 pm: Regina’s random Covid-testing routine is…why? People are laughing and cheering but it’s not funny. Really. I’m sorry.
5:25: West Side Story‘s Arianna de Bose wins Best Supporting Actress Oscar — locked in from the beginning, unanimous consensus, totally predicted, good work. She celebrates her history, her luck, her job, her queerness…going on too long. Like they all did during last year’s Soderbergh show.
5:22 pm: “Take away the lame opening number and unfunny opening monologues, and they could’ve given out all the awards they are eliminating from the live broadcast” — regional friendo.
5:10 pm: Amy Schumer, Wanda Sykes and Regina King sharing the monologue duties. “Toxic masculinity.” Snippy insult joke aimed at J.K. Simmons. Sykes: “I’ve watched The Power of the Dog three times, and I’m halfway through it” — a Jimmy Kimmel joke. And now they’re introducing the cavalcade of Oscar presenters. And now Schumer has taken over solo. “Home is the best” joke…?…nope. “We finally got a movie about the Williams sisters’ dad”…nope. A Leonardo DiCaprio young girlfriends joke…nope. A Being The Ricardos put-down joke.
5 pm: Venus and Serena Williams kicking things off with a Beyonce music video? I’m not getting a movie-madness feeling from this. Getting a lime chiffon vibe. Key lime pie and whipped cream. This could be an opener for the Grammys. What is this? Righteous Brothers: “You’ve lost that Oscar feelin’…”
…starts at 5 pm Pacific. Or maybe before. I don’t know what I’m saying. All I know is that for the last several weeks I’ve been hearing nothing but variations of “the Oscars are over, they peaked a couple of decades ago, nobody cares, how low will the ratings be?, everything sucks,” etc. And now we’re all on the red carpet and everyone is jubilant, jazzed, giggling, tickled pink!, caaaan’t wait!, etc.
It’s like the Invasion of the Happy Mysterians…who are you people? What do you really think? Do you have brains? Why is no one talking about what’s really and truly going on in this town? And where’s Penelope Cruz?
David Edelstein‘s CBS commentary is a nice way to start things off. Then again he doesn’t even mention Penelope Cruz as a possible Best Actress victor.
Cruel perversity runs through Adrien Lyne's Deep Water (Hulu, 3.18). That's what you feel more than anything else....the cold-blooded cruelty.
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I've read most many of the capsule descriptions of narrative features playing at the 2022 Santa Barbara Film Festival, and, as you might presume, a good portion are about women (some older or middle-aged, some BIPOC, mostly young) grappling with some kind of oppression or stunning setback or tragedy or medical affliction or suppressed trauma, and gradually achieving some kind of modest breakthrough, perhaps through a relationship with someone in the same boat or by connecting with cultural roots or facing inner fears, etc.
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The cast of Joel Coen‘s The Tragedy of Macbeth, a play about medieval Scotland, is pretty close to one-third African American. Presentism is par for the course these days, of course, but Coen and wife-producer-costar Frances McDormand seem to have moved beyond your obligatory woke casting requirements.
Which is a switch for Joel, at least compared to remarks he and brother Ethan made during an interview with The Daily Beast‘s Jen Yamato in February ’16 while promoting Hail Ceasar.
Yamato had brought up the issue of diverse casting and multi-ethnic representation. Even though Hail Ceasar was set in the racially illiberal early ’50s, her beef was basically #WhyIsHailCaesarSoWhite? Joel’s attitude was quite resistant and in fact fairly dismissive. Boiled down, his view was “why should I ethnically mix up my cast just for political reasons?”
It’s probably fair to say that a different Joel was at the helm when it came to casting The Tragedy of Macbeth. I know nothing, but I suspect that McDormand told him “you can’t really play it that way now, plus there are so many great actors of color out there…you should get in on this.”
Obviously Joel could have ignored the presentism requirement and made Macbeth as a traditional all-paleface play a la Roman Polanski and Orson Welles, and if anyone had complained he could have used the same argument he threw at Yamato. So why didn’t he? Because the Yamato mindset is industry-wide now, and he figured “well, I guess I need to get with the program…why make trouble for myself?…why not just embrace presentism and turn it into a plus?”
Posted on 10.6.17: “Blade Runner 2049 lasts an eternity — I checked my watch at least five or six times, and my muttered mantra all through it was ‘I don’t give a shit about any of this, I don’t give a shit about any of this, I don’t give a shit about any of this’ — but it’s certainly a major vision thing. Pay your $16 dollars and sink into a thoroughly gloomy realm of super-holograms (including ones of Frank Sinatra and Vegas-era Elvis Presley), rot, ruin and industrial scrap, a toxic shithole populated with grim-faced characters you would just as soon squash as look at, a world of hair-grease and sprayed sweat and impassive, cold-death expressions, and all of it blanketed with rain, snow, sludge and chemical mud-glop.
“And oh, yeah, for a story that you won’t give two shits about. A dingleberry doodle plot involving memory implants and obscured lineage and a secret no one must know (no one! just ask Jared Leto!) and a little wooden horse with a date (6.10.21) carved into the base, and some shit-hooey about original replicant creator Eldon Tyrell having given Rachael, the experimental replicant played by Sean Young in the ’82 original, the organic potential to reproduce and blah blah. And a narrative pace that will slow your own pulse and make your eyelids flutter and descend, and a growing need to escape into the outer lobby so you can order a hot dog and check your messages.
“BR49 should have run two hours, not two hours and 44 minutes.
“Do yourself a favor…seriously. Before seeing it this weekend, read the Wikipedia synopsis. Doing so will remove the irritating, hard-to-follow story tease and allow you to just concentrate on the visuals, which is all this thing is about anyway. It doesn’t matter anyway — nothing does, it’s all shit and distraction, you’re all just contributing to the Warner Bros. bottom line, to Ryan Gosling and Harrison Ford‘s wealth while you subtract from your own. We’re all punks, fools, suckers, knaves. Warner Bros. pours a little whiskey onto the plastic floor, and like Ford’s Blade Runner wolf dog we lick it right up.
“Fuck the story, fuck the lineage factor, fuck it all. Just sink into the chilly murderous vibe and Gosling’s impassive, glazed-over robot eyes, and Ford’s subtle emotional delivery (has he ever cried before on-screen?). Nobody cares and it doesn’t fucking matter if RG or Ford or Kevin Tsujihara are replicants. I’m a replicant with the capability of siring children and writing a daily column. What difference does it make if I’m an android or not, or if I dream of electric sheep? Nobody cares, nothing matters, it’s all bullshit.
“What of the virtual-reality prostitute, the homicidal super-bitch and the brittle, tough-cookie supervisor played by Ana de Armas, Sylvia Hoeks and Robin Wright? Smart women will not be pleased. (After the show a friend was listening to a whipsmart feminist deploring these characters and the phony, piss-poor writing.) For these are cardboard, non-dimensional figures (women acting like men or fulfilling men’s fantasies) who would never be hatched by a woman screenwriter. Grow some soul and awareness, Hampton Fancher and Michael Green.
“How important is Gosling’s little wooden horse, and how does it feed into everything else? I’m still scratching my head about that, but I’m sure someone will explain it later today. Is Gosling’s “Joe” the replicant son of you-know-who? I didn’t give a shit. Is there any kind of emotionally satisfying undercurrent in any of this? Fuck no.
“There’s one moment — one! — that made me sit up in my seat and say to myself ‘wait, hold on, this is semi-poignant.’ But the spoiler whiners will kill me if I get specific. It involves Ford and a younger woman — I’ll leave it at that.
“I knew this wouldn’t be a glorious, all-around triumph. I knew it would be brilliant but problematic. I knew not to trust those rave reviews written by balding, bespectacled, heavyset dweebs. If they’d written ‘it’s a bear to sit through and it makes you feel like shit, but it’s a masterpiece,’ okay, but too many of them just wrote “it’s a masterpiece!’ This is why people don’t trust critics. They live in their own world.
On 6.15 the Ringer podcast (Bill Simmons, Chris Ryan, Sean Fennessey) mentioned a post I did about the old Billy Crystal-Bruno Kirby feud (“When Billy Screwed Bruno,” 8.24.06). The post appeared ten days after Kirby‘s death from lukemia on 8.14.06.
Here’s the original post, which was basically a riff on an article by New York-based journalist Nicholas Stix. I’ve also re-posted a response to Mark Evanier‘s POV Online discussion (dead link) of the Stix article.
Here it is: This article by New York journalist Nicholas Stix (posted on Tuesday and updated today) could have been called “When Billy Shafted Bruno.” It’s not mentioned in the lead graph or the second or third graph, but the heart of the story provides indications and quotes supporting a thesis that Billy Crystal “made” the career of the late Bruno Kirby, who died last week, and then he un-made him.
Or so the indicators indicate. Crystal certainly seems to have had an indirect hand in limiting Kirby’s acting opportunities and may have been, in a sense, a “career- killing ogre” as far as Kirby was concerned. By all means read Stix’s article, but in a nutshell it says the following:
(a) “Kirby, whose first big role was young Clemenza in The Godfather, Part II, was one of the hottest character actors in Hollywood in the late 1980s, through 1991. Kirby’s high point was Rob Reiner‘s When Harry Met Sally (1989), in which Kirby played the male second banana as the sportswriter-best friend of Crystal’s character. Sally would prove to be one of the greatest romantic comedies ever made, and the high point in the career of everyone involved in the production.”
(b) “In 1991, Kirby had an even more substantial role in City Slickers as Crystal’s character’s macho friend,. That same year, Kirby also won acclaim on Broadway, replacing Kevin Spacey as the male lead, playing the smallest of small-timers, would-be gangster ‘Uncle Louie’ in Neil Simon’s memory play, Lost in Yonkers which won four Tony awards.”
(c) “At that point, Kirby was one of the top character actors in the business, his career on a trajectory that was leading inexorably to Oscar nominations, and perhaps even a golden statuette. And then his career tanked. Following City Slickers, the names of most of the pictures he was in were so forgettable — obscure, direct-to-video duds that I had never even heard of — that I instantly forgot them.”
(d) “During or shortly after the making of City Slickers, Kirby and Crystal had a falling out, and not only would Crystal no longer work with Kirby, but neither would any of the many producers and directors associated with Crystal. As a result, while Kirby continued to work, he was cast in fewer movies and the ones he was cast in were, well … take a look for yourself: Golden Gate (1994), Heavenzapoppin’! (1996), A Slipping-Down Life (1999), History Is Made at Night (1999), One Eyed King (2001).
8:40 pm: Nobody expected the 2021 Oscars to be anything too special or riveting, but I was intrigued by what Soderbergh might do with it. Whatever he did, it sure as hell wasn’t like a movie. As the show finally turned out, it was just kinda “meh” and not funny or pizazzy enough and the only big surprise, really, was the Hopkins win. How did Viola Davis manage the Best Actress SAG win while losing the Oscar? The simplest answer is that SAG-AFTRA allegiance is not synonymous with Academy worship.
8:10 pm: Time for the keenly awaited Best Actress presentation — the big moment. And the Oscar goes to Frances McDormand! Okay, that’s a wee bit disappointing. But okay — Nomadland‘s third Oscar, and McDormand’s third also. “And I like work…hah-hah! Thank you for that.” And The Father‘s Anthony Hopkins wins for Best Actor! The show was jiggered to end on a big emotional note with Chadwick Boseman winning, and then Hopkins takes it and he doesn’t show up. And the show’s over. They managed to push the running time to 3:17 without songs or dancing or a jokey monologue.
8:01 pm: Wait…Rita Moreno is presenting the Best Picture Oscar now? Before the Best Actor and Best Actress presentations? Okay — the second Nomadland Oscar. I’m fine with this. We all expected it. It’s a well-made film. Fran’s coyote yell worked. That and “see this movie on the biggest screen,” etc. Who expects to see an IMAX version of Nomadland sometime this summer?
7:57 pm: The pace of the death reel was steady at first, then it went faster and faster, and then it slowed down at the end to acknowledge the passings of Sean Connery and Chadwick Boseman. They seemed to include everyone. I guess the show is going to last 3 hours and 15 minutes, something like that. No worries on this end.
7:37 pm: Zendaya presenting the Best Score Oscar, and the winner is Soul. Jon Batiste is cool. H.E.R. wins the Best Song Oscar for Judas and the Black Messiah — “Fight For You.” What’s with all the time-killing chit-chat…the padding? At least Glenn Close is getting into it.
7:27 pm: Tyler Perry accepting the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. “Refuse hate…don’t hate anyone,” he says, “because they’re black or white or Asian,” etc. How about wokesters not hating centrist types? How about not trying to destroy the lives of people who aren’t woke enough, or who might have tweeted the wrong thing ten years ago? Do they count?
7:18 pm: Time for the Best Editing Oscar. How is silvery Harrison Ford going to play Indiana Jones again? He seems a bit frail; sounds wheezy. Wait…Sound of Metal wins! Who saw that coming? Congrats!
7:07 pm: The Best Cinematography Oscar goes to Mank‘s Eric Messerschmidt! That’s a bit of a surprise, no? Friendo: “So now things get interesting. Will Nomadland only win Best Picture and Best Director? Will it win best Editing also? Will McDormand win through?”
7:05 pm: We’re now in the final hour (55 minutes to go), and Mank has won the Best Production Design Oscar…congrats! Why does this show have no clips?
6:56 pm: Brad Pitt hands the Best Supporting Actress Oscar to Yuh-Jung Youn, the spunky Minari grandma who burned the barn down. The first Asian actress to win in this category since Sayonara‘s Miyoshi Umeki, and the first Korean actress ever. She’s going on a bit. An elegant lady, nicely dressed, amusing…class act.
6:51 pm: The Visual Effects Oscar should go to Tenet, I feel, and it does!
6:40 pm: Time for My Octopus Teacher to win the Best Feature Documentary Oscar…right? Correct. What happened to “this show will feel like a movie?” I thought that meant that nominees and winners would perform snappy dialogue with the camera darting in and out. I thought that meant that some kind of light narrative would develop. Something along those lines. The winning Octopus couple is going on and on. Friendo: “Oh, for the days of Joe Pesci when a simple ‘Thank You’ was sufficient.”
6:35 pm: Best Documentary, Short Subject Oscar goes to Colette. I’m sorry but this show is just plodding along…it’s not zippy, funny, nervy, irreverent. The tone of sincerity mixed with “earnest” and “heartfelt” is almost suffocating. It feels like a meeting of kindly, friendly Trotskyites in formal wear.
6:26 pm: Reese Witherspoon reading off the Best Animated Feature nominees. I’m sorry but I hate animation. The Oscar goes to Soul — a film that I didn’t much care for. Excerpt: “Soul betrays its audience by (a) encouraging them to identify with and believe in Joe Gardner‘s long-denied dream about becoming a jazz musician instead of a frustrated middle-school music teacher, only to (b) pull the rug out on Joe’s dream in Act Three and end things with Joe feeling uncertain about what he really wants to do with his remaining time on earth. Possibly jazz, possibly teaching…who knows?”
6:15 pm: Two Distant Strangers wins for Live Action Short. We are reminded that cops will continue to shoot people of color on a disproportionate basis. The Best Animated Short winners (“If Anything Happens I Love you”) also deplore gun deaths at the hands of police.
6:12 pm: This show doesn’t feel “like a movie” at all. It feels like a dud-level Kiwanis Club awards event in a mid-sized restaurant. The vibe is pure Spirit Awards, but without the jokes. The most touching acceptance speech so far has been given by poor Thomas Vinterberg (what a terrible loss) — the others have been (here comes that word again) solemn.
6:08 pm: And the Best Sound Oscar, announced by Riz Ahmed, goes to Sound of Metal….thank you! Fully and completely deserved, if I do say so myself.
5:59 pm: The Best Directing Oscar goes to Nomadland‘s Chloe Zhao. Her hair is quite ungussied and un-styled — middle part, Pocahantas braids, large ears. She’s wearing a somewhat plain gold-champagne colored gown with white sneakers. Where’s the jean jacket?
5:47 pm: I have to be honest — the Soderbergh Oscar atmosphere feels a bit curious. Solemn, doleful, downbeat, no jokes. Emphasis on the solemn. In years and decades past, the Oscar elite (nominees, plus-ones, ticketed guests) were the usual Anglos with a smattering of Black, Latino, Asian, etc. Tonight the visuals are diverse-plus…mostly (am I allowed to notice this?) people of color, it seems, with a smattering of palefaces. Okay, more than a smattering but fewer, for sure. 60-40? Plus the absence of jokes and general mirth…what can I say? The words “fun” and “lively” will not be used to summarize this show after it’s over.
5:42 pm: Best Makeup and Hairstyling goes to Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal and Jamika Wilson for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. And Ma Rainey‘s Ann Roth wins the Costume Oscar.
5:38 pm: I have to admit that those clips of Steven Spielberg‘s West Side Story (due eight months hence) are alluring. A little Robert Wise-y, but more arthousey. The cinematographer is Janusz Kaminsky, but the default milky desaturated thing has been put aside.
5:28 pm: Dern again, presenting the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor…Daniel Kaluuya, Leslie Odom, Jr., Lakeith Stanfield, Paul Raci, Sascha Baron Cohen…and Kaluuya wins, as predicted. I would’ve chosen Stanfield, as indicated previously. Kaluuya’s thick accent, fast slurring and murmuring, heavyish appearance, etc. He was too old to play the 21 year-old Fred Hampton, and didn’t resemble him otherwise. Nobody minded.
5:21 pm: Laura Dern announcing the winner of the Best International Film Oscar. HE is rooting against Another Round, due respect, and for Quo Vadis, Aida or Collectiv. Thomas Vinterberg‘s Another Round, an underwhelming film, wins. Vinterberg alludes to his (and more particularly his daughter Ida‘s) highway tragedy in 2019. Very sad….”Ida, this is a miracle that has happened, and you’re part of it…this one’s for you.”
5:08 pm: Despite the last-minute Bo Burnham switcheroo at the end of Promising Young Woman, Emerald Fennell wins for Best Original Screenplay. An omen that might indicate a Mullligan win later on? These origin-story speeches are definitely going on a bit. Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar about to be announced…and the Oscar goes to the co-writers of The Father, Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller. Zeller, speaking from Paris at 2:14 am, is holding an Oscar statuette. Makes logistical sense.
5:04 pm: One Night in Miami‘s Regina King tracking shot through the sparsely attended Union Station festivities, and then up to the stage. First thing out of her mouth — this has been a painful year and people of color are not safe, or words to that effect — “This of this as a movie set…” Friendo: “Mentioning racial anxiety at the very beginning of the telecast…millions of Americans just switched to the other channel.”
2:42 pm: HE’s live-blog commentary on the lowest rated, most who-gives-a-shit? Oscar award ceremony in Hollywood history (although possibly the most inventively staged and written, courtesy of Steven Soderbergh) begins at 5pm Pacific / 8 pm Eastern. Tune in, turn on, check your tweets.
Here’s one reason why Hollywood Elsewhere has such a high regard for Spectrum service:
4:45 update: Signal issues persisted, so I downloaded the Spectrum app on my Apple TV box and am now using this — good to go.
While Variety editors debate and dither over the trade paper’s response (if any) to the National Society of Film Critics’ condemnation of its recent behavior in the Carey Mulligan-Dennis Harvey-Promising Young Woman brouhaha, Hollywood Elsewhere is submitting the following for Variety‘s consideration, should they wish to explain themselves more fully:
“Variety acknowledges, understands and respects the position of the National Society of Film Critics in its just-posted (2.9) criticism of Variety‘s 11-months-later apology for a certain paragraph in Dennis Harvey‘s 1.26.20 review of Promising Young Woman.
“If we were NSFC-allied critics instead of Variety editors, we might well agree with and support this morning’s statement wholeheartedly.
“However, Variety respectfully suggests that the NSFC has missed the point in this matter. Because what the NSFC has condemned us for — disrespecting a top-ranked stringer and needlessly bruising his sterling reputation, plus showing a lack of editorial ethics and backbone — happened for what we believe to be a good and noble reason.
“Simply put, we did what we did because we believe that #MeToo solidarity counts more than editorial integrity.
“We are living through a revolutionary era in Hollywood history, one in which women, people of various ethnicities and LGBTQs are righteously claiming a larger share of power and pressure — power that the white-male heirarchy has singlehandedly wielded for decades. Women in particular are standing up, pushing back and challenging sexist norms.
“And so when Carey Mulligan complained a few weeks ago to N.Y. Times columnist Kyle Buchanan about what she (and, frankly, we) judged as a viewpoint with a certain sexist or misogynist undercurrent, our hearts were stirred.
“And so it seemed necessary, important and perhaps even vital to us that Variety should stand alongside Mulligan, offer an unprecedented editorial apology and say “classic editorial journalistic ethics are well and good and we’re certainly not abandoning most of them, but women need to stick together in this, an era of #MeToo solidarity and change…we’re with you all the way, Carey. And don’t worry about Harvey and his fuddy-duddy defenders…they’ll get over this little speed bump and we can all go back to business as usual.
“In other words, when we decided to apologize to Mulligan and Focus Features for the tone and phrasing in a single, allegedly inflammatory paragraph in Harvey’s review, our thinking was fundamentally driven by political rather than ethical or critical considerations.
We all look good (or as good as we’re ever going to look) in our late teens and 20s. But of course (stop me if you’ve heard this one) we don’t tend to become interesting until we’ve kicked around for a while and taken a few punches and acquired that vaguely bruised, weathered, lived-in look.
Everyone knows how Scott Feinberg‘s award-season forecasts break down. The ten films included in his Frontrunners tally are well-situated to the extent that most (i.e., Scott always includes a couple of stragglers) are likely to be Best Picture-nominated.
It’s axiomatic in this highly political year, especially in the wake of last summer’s George Floyd protests, that any well-reviewed, professionally assembled film featuring a primarily POC cast will be Best Picture nominated, and so Feinberg, being no fool, has included Netflix’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Amazon’s One Night in Miami and Pixar’s Soul in his Frontrunners roster.
None of these three films even approaches the quality of Steve McQueen‘s Mangrove, Lovers Rock and Red White & Blue, but McQueen’s “Small Axe” quintet is Emmy material and so we’re left with what we’re left with. No disrespect intended, but two of these features are basically filmed plays, and Soul is emotionally indecisive and all over the map and fairly infuriating for that.
The question for Oscar-race handicappers is “why does Feinberg have it in for Spike Lee‘s Da 5 Bloods“? I don’t mean to imply that Feinberg has a hardnosed problem with Lee’s film but there must be some reason why he’s included it in the much-dreaded “Major Threats” category.
If Feinberg has categorized your awards-hopeful film as a “major threat,” you’re…well, I’d better be careful here. I was going to say “you’re as good as dead” but what I really mean is that “major threat” means “uh-oh.” Over the last several weeks Da 5 Bloods has been on just about every Best Picture top-ten contender list. Right now it’s occupying the #9 slot on the Gold Derby expert list.
Feinberg is just one guy, of course, and voters will vote how they want to vote, etc. Especially the crowd that voted last year for Parasite…people that live on their own planet.
Here are the films included in Feinberg’s top four categories. Hollywood Elsewhere has boldfaced those titles that really and truly have the Best Picture juice …films that deserve to be Best Picture nominated in the eyes of the Movie Godz. Before starting I’m going to say for seventh or eight time over the last three or four weeks that while Steve McQueen’s Mangrove and Roman Polanski‘s J’Accuse won’t be under consideration for reasons that have nothing to do with quality, they would DEFINITELY be Best Picture hotties in a fair and just universe.
Frontrunners
Nomadland (Searchlight)
The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Netflix)
Minari (A24 — Spirit Awards)
Promising Young Woman (Focus)
Sound of Metal (Amazon)
The Father (Sony Classics)
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Netflix)
One Night in Miami (Amazon)
Soul (Pixar)
Mank (Netflix)
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