…aren’t the things you did wrong, but the things you didn’t do. These are the things that will surely haunt your soul into eternity.

Roger W. Smith is one such haunted individual — tortured by the fact that Grace Kelly expressed a covert interest in meeting him clandestinely in Paris 40-odd years ago, in response to which Smith dropped the damn ball. Shame!

HE friendo Bill McCuddy has recorded 18 podcasts with this writer, marketing whiz, editor and entrepreneur. Yeah, I don’t know him either.

Smith (not the late husband of Ann-Margret) is the co-founder and executive editor of Global Media Intelligence, a media research service for major investors in media companies, and a former entertainment industry executive (1974-1996) with Warner Bros., Carolco and Live! Entertainment.

Smith worked for Carolco (Andy Vajna, Mario Kassar) in the mid ’80s, which is also when I worked as a Carolco under-publicist in the employ of Bobby Zarem and Dick Delson, so maybe I ran into him at one point. My memory is a blank.

The only thing that stands out for me is the Kelly episode. Smith was allegedly “hit on” by Monaco’s princess in July ’82. Smith took a meeting in Monaco with Grace and Prince Rainer, and in so doing pitched her on playing the Mary Astor part (a divorcee) in a remake of Dodsworth. Kelly was allegedly “quite keen” to play the part but was killed in a car crash, of course, in September of that year.

The important thing is that after the meeting Kelly discreetly asked Smith to pay her a visit a week or two hence at a certain Paris hotel. If you know anything about Kelly’s adventurous sexual history the invitation may have led to something (who knows?), but any self-respecting, red-blooded male would have at least given Kelly a call when she was in town.

What did Smith do? He either blew her off or forgot or had another appointment or something. Ignominious!

Here’s the podcast link.

Luther Vandross, Ava Cherry, Robin Clark and who else? Love these guys.

Obviously the assertion that Cleopatra was black, put forth by an episode in the Netflix African Queens series, is dicey at best.

The Egyptian queen (70 BC — 30 BC) was most likely olive-skinned, being a blend of Macedonian Greek ancestry (descended from Ptolemy I Soter) along with some Iranian blood. She almost certainly wasn’t black — that’s just some Jada Pinkett Smith-approved revisionist woke balderdash. There’s some kind of current Egyptian consensus that’s saying “no way.”

On top of which the dialogue and the acting in the Netflix doc are just this side of atrocious.

I think “Hitler” says it best: “Saying Cleopatra was black is like saying Jada Pinkett Smith is a faithful loving wife.”

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I’m horrified about Kokomo City star Koko Da Doll, 35, having been shot and killed last Tuesday in Atlanta. Variety‘s Angelique Jackson reported her death last night (4.20).

The immediate assumption, of course, is that Koko (aka Rasheeda Williams) may have been killed by a hate-crimer, but no one seems to know what actually happened so let’s see how the story unfolds. Obviously a terrible tragedy. Hugs and condolences to friends, fans, colleagues.

Atlanta cops are saying Koko was found with a gunshot wound in Southwest Atlanta shortly before 11 p.m. eastern on Tuesday.

Directed by D. Smith, Kokomo City is a feature-length doc about four trans sex workers living in Atlanta and New York City — Koko, Daniella Carter, Liyah Mitchell and Dominique Silver — as they confront the dichotomy between the Black community and themselves, as well as the persistent threat of violence they face each day.”

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Here’s the latest Jeff–and–Sasha Substack…have at it.

Once again, the link..

What more is there to learn or say about the poor guy? I can’t imagine what new wrinkles have yet to be considered…seriously. Even when I was a kid I knew Hudson was closeted. I had a surreal dream about him when I was 12 or 13, and I just knew.

Alec Baldwin had been facing two counts of involuntary manslaughter over the the accidental killing of cinematographer Halyna Hutchin during the filming of Rust in New Mexico. But no longer.

He’s now out of the woods and standing clear and free. Two weeks before the start of the trial, criminal charges have been dropped against the guy.

We all knew it was a tragic accident, and that no reasonable person would argue that Baldwin loaded the western-style pistol. We all knew that the armorer, Hannah Gutierrez-Reed, was primarily responsible.

Baldwin’s lawyer Luke Nikas: “Mr. Baldwin had no reason to believe there was a live bullet in the gun, or anywhere on the movie set. He relied on the professionals with whom he worked, who assured him the gun did not have live rounds. We are pleased with the decision to dismiss the case against him, and we encourage a proper investigation into the facts and circumstances of this tragic accident.”

F. Murray Abraham is publicly apologizing for passing along some presumably vulgar, off-color jokes during the shooting of Apple TV+’s Mythic Quest. The jokes were apparently what got him fired, and so Abraham is trying to calm the whole situation down.

“This is a sincere and deeply felt apology,” he said in the statement. “Though never my intention to offend anyone, I told jokes, nothing more, that upset some of my colleagues and as a result I lost a great job with wonderful people. I have grown in my understanding from this experience, and I hope they will forgive me.”

Remember The Aristocrats? Gauche, revolting, locker-room rumor performed ironically and without the slightest hesitation. The late Gilbert Gottfried‘s rendition was masterful. The idea wasn’t to be “funny”, but to demonstrate how brazen or unperturbed he was about slinging really disgusting material “in quotes”, and with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Did Abraham got into trouble because he didn’t have Gottfried’s confidence or charm?

Imagine Gottfried killing an audience with that idiotic Johnny Fuckerfaster joke, which I first heard when I was eight or nine. “Once there was a boy named Johnny Fuckerfaster, and he was having sex with a girl under the front porch and his mom came out looking for him. ‘Johnny!’ she called out. Johnny was silent. ‘Johnny Fuckerfaster, where are you?’ Still no reply. ‘Johnny Fuckerfaster, answer me or you’re in big trouble!” his mom shouted at the top of her lungs. ‘Jeez, ma,’ Johny finally replied. ‘I’m going as fast as I can!'”

I’ve never laughed at vulgar sexual humor, which often masks hostility or immaturity, and I’ve certainly never tried to amuse anyone with such humor. But a gifted comedian — confidence, generosity of spirit, timing, attitude — can make all the difference.

For a while there I thought Jonathan Majors might ride this thing out, but now I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows.

I do know that Majors had been connecting and gaining ground for the last four years, starting with The Last Black Man in San Francisco (’19), followed by The Harder They Fall (’21) and a boxer in Creed III (’23) and playing Kang the Conqueror, most recently in that godawful Antman and the Wasp: Quantumania. But now it all seems to be crumbling into pieces.

On 3.25 Majors was arrested in Manhattan on charges of strangulation, assault and harassment, but two statements seemed to mitigate — one by attorney Priya Chaudhry that said Majors is “innocent and has not abused anyone,” and that “irrefutable evidence [shows] that the charges are false”, and another by his 30 year-old victim-girlfriend that basically said that the incident had been overblown and that she didn’t mean to create all this trouble.

But then Majors was dropped as a client by both his management company, Entertainment 360, and the public relations firm, the Lede Company.

And then yesterday (4.19) Variety‘s Tatiana Siegel reported that “sources” are saying Majors “is now a suspect in multiple cases of assault and abuse” and that “several alleged victims have reportedly come forward and are cooperating with the D.A.’s office.”

Just before that it was reported that while Marvel has decided nothing since the arrest, an “insider” is claiming that Marvel is fiddling around with the idea of replacing Majors, just in case.

How does he turn this around? Is the situation even repairable?

Nobody got killed so this morning’s Starship launch was basically an expensive lesson in what not to do next time. Try, try again. The rocket was flipping and tumbling for a while, and then boom. The explosion happens around the 4:02 mark.

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In the vicinity of the Colisseum, street peddlers have been selling this Roma Antica map to the tourists for decades. I bought mine (tightly rolled and shrink-wrapped) in ‘07, and for a good 15 years it hung on my dining room wall, mounted and framed.

I am eternally of this ancient city, or so I’ve always believed in my bones (or at least in my dreams). I actually lived there, I’m fairly certain, in one of my past lives. And what a comedown my lives have been ever since.

“So as through a glass, and darkly / the age-long strife I see / Where I’ve written and travelled in many guises, many names / But always me”

Eric Gravel‘s Full Time (Music Box) is a first-rate, expertly acted (Laure Calamy!), 100% genuine film about hard knocks and real, actual life, and is therefore worth about 20 Super Mario Bros or Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves combined, and at least 50 times whatever bullshit value you want to assign to John Wick: Chapter 4…I spit on all these films (especially Wick) and cherish the time that I spent with Full Time (aka À plein temps).

Even though, to be 100% honest, I found it spiritually exhausting toward the end. But that’s an intended effect.

The 40ish Julie (Calamy) can’t catch a breath, much less a break. She’s a divorced mom raising two toddlers in the too-far-away Parisian suburb of Collemieres (157 kilometers). She works as the top maid in a five-star Parisian hotel, having to leave super-early and always returning too late. And her husband is late with the alimony.

And then life gets even harder when a train strike hits. Julie has to beg, sidestep, wheedle, plead for assistance and bend the rules all the time just to keep her head above water. Raising two kids is a crushing responsibility for a single parent under the best of circumstances, but the strike makes life all but impossible.

Victor Seguin‘s cinematography and especially the editing by Mathilde Van de Moortel work hand in hand to create a thriller-like atmosphere. The cutting is straight out of the Bourne movies.

But when things take a turn for the worse at the two-thirds mark and — SPOILERS! — Julie loses her local childcare provider and especially when she apparently doesn’t land a better-paying job that she’s been interviewing for, I felt myself starting to wilt. I was rooting for this poor harried woman to somehow make it through, but I began to find it too exhausting and stressful…I just gave up.

Thank God things turn around at the end, but what a slog with the punishing commute and the two kids and the rail strike and doing it all alone…GOOD LORD!!!

It’s an excellent film nonetheless. I could easily see it again. Calmy’s performance is about as real and convincing as anything in this realm could possibly be.

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