Odious Humanoid

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I’m sorry, but I think it should be our sworn duty to identify and shame wokester fanatics. I’m thinking particularly of Jeff Zhang of Strange Harbors, who yesterday accused Jeff Sneider of racism because a gentle mocking of “a Black It,” given that Maine (the setting of all the It adaptations) is one of the whitest states in the country.

Nobody raised their eyebrows at Ryan Coogler‘s plan for a diverse X-Files. Pretty much any classic franchise or well-known TV series can be rebooted with a Black cast, I would suppose, but for social realism’s sake it’s probably not the most persuasive idea to set the rebooted project in New Hampshire or Switzerland or the Czech Republic.

Noteworthy Zhang line: “[We should] bully these racist morons out of our industry.”

Fat Donny

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“Though we often ask artists to reflect on the events of the day for the weekly cover, the magazine has not, until now, turned to a courtroom sketch artist, whose job it is to depict what a scene looks like when cameras are forbidden in federal criminal proceedings. Jane Rosenberg, the artist behind the cover for the April 17, 2023, issue, was one of three approved sketch artists in the courtroom on the fifteenth floor of the Manhattan Criminal Courthouse, on April 4, 2023, when the former President Donald Trump was arraigned on thirty-four felony charges of falsifying business records.” — from a Francois Mouly piece inj the current issue of The New Yorker.

Whatever It Was

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…that was making my chest ache and keeping me from slumber all last night…whatever it was, it gave up the ghost a couple of hours ago and now I’m feeling okay again.

Tiny Appendages

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I’m sorry but it’s time to come clean about those micro-sized Johnsons that Michelangelo painted and sculpted time and again.

I’ve always been uncomfortable with thimble-sized packages. A self-respecting man should always display a little “heft”, as Terry Southern used to put it. It’s just not cool to have a push-pin shlongola, and I’m wondering how and why a gay man like Michelangelo would be down with this.

To this day I can vividly recall the slight feelings of discomfort when I caught my first glimpse of a semi-hefty male organ. It happened in the showers of the Westfield YMCA, and I remember muttering to myself “Jesus, this guy’s bigger than the golden nude male statue (“Prometheus”) at Rockefeller Center.”

More “Coup de Chance” Praise

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Roger Friedman has seen Woody Allen’s Coup de Chance, and is so impressed with the 90-minute, French-speaking noir that he’s suggesting it could end up winning the Best Int’l Feature Oscar next year.

It’s great to hear this level of enthusiasm, and it makes me all the more hopeful that Coup de Chance will play Cannes next month.

It goes without saying, of course, that Allen haters would never allow it to even be nominated, much less win. They would shriek and howl at even the possibility.

And what’s with the 90-minute length, by the way? Doesn’t Allen understand that the average running time these days is well over two hours?

Opening Night Uh-Oh

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Maiwenn‘s Jeanne du Barry, a historical drama set in the mid to late 1700s France (i.e., mostly before but also including the French Revolution), will open the ’23 Cannes Film Festival on Tuesday, 5.16.

Opening-night films are almost always weak or problematic in some fashion. From a certain perspective it’s almost a curse, categorically speaking.

Alternately called La Favorite, the film will star Maiwenn as Jeanne Becu (aka Madame du Barry) in a rags-to-riches-to-guillotine story.

Accused of treason, Becu lost her head during the French terror, and more precisely on December 8, 1793.

Johnny Depp plays the aged King Louis XV, who enjoyed Becu as his final mistress. The only problem is that Louis XV died in 1774, or 15 years before the French Revolution of ’89 and nearly 20 years before Becu’s execution so I don’t get it. I’m not trying to be a smartass — I’m just trying to understand.

Wikipedia says Netflix will release Jeanne du Barry in France in 2023 (probably right after Cannes ’23), but that the streaming release won’t happen for another 15 months, or sometime in the fall of ’24. The Wiki page also states that the film, which finished shooting last October, was financed by the Red Sea International Film Festival. I don’t know…sounds kinda fishy.

Boxy “Psycho” on Netflix

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I haven’t seen Psycho in a boxy format in many decades, but it’s currently viewable in this aspect ratio (1.37:1) on Netflix. The images look soft and grainy, like you’re watching a broadcast version on an old TV in 1974. The framings are nonetheless fascinating. I suspect that some Netflix techie made a mistake and this version won’t last long, so jump on it as soon as you can.

All Night Long

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It’s not Covid (just tested myself) and there’s no fever, but something got into me last night. A serious ache in my chest. Not a heart attack but something. Persistent fatigue. I couldn’t sleep all night. Breathing hurts a bit. Whatever it is, I’m waiting it out.

Son of John Wayne Saddlebag Trauma

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[Originally posted on 7.5.14 — almost nine years ago]: A couple of weeks ago I bought some distressed black-leather motorcycle saddlebags for the new Yamaha Majesty. The fact that the bags were old and quite worn-down and looked like John Wayne might have used them during the shooting of Red River are what made them cool.

It’s very hard to find Tom Dunson saddlebags today because 99.5% of today’s motorcycle owners prefer foo-foo metrosexual leather bags with a shiny showroom lustre and metal studs and complex stitchings that might have been designed by Vera Wang or Ozwald Boateng.

But guess what? The people in Austin who sold me the beat-up bags (they’re known as Rusty Chicken.com) cancelled the order and tossed the bags, they said, because they’re too dusty or grubby-looking or something like that.

Rusty Chicken to me two hours ago: “We have sent you several notices saying we have refunded your form of payment. The item was defective.”

Me to Rusty Chicken: “What does that mean, ‘defective’? Why didn’t you just send it and let me decide if I liked it or not? Your listing said it was worn and stressed and so on. That’s what I wanted. I was going to loosen it up with mink oil and then have it repaired by a shoe-repair guy.”

Me to Rusty Chicken (follow-up): “Listen to me, please — I WANT defective. I WANT saddlebags that look old and beat-up and, you know, sort of ‘John Wayne on the Chisholm Trail’. Will you please sell them to me? Please, I’m asking. I really, REALLY want the beat-up saddlebags. Even if they’re starting to fall apart…fine. Will you please sell them to me?”

Rusty Chicken back to me: “The items have been disposed of.”

Me to Rusty Chicken: “WHAT? You take the trouble to offer the saddlebags, you post photos of them on your website, you put them on your website for sale, you accept my order, you tell me that they’re about to be sent out….and then you cancel the order and toss them into the garbage?

“I’m sorry, man, but that’s alcoholic behavior. I’ve been sober for two years and three months but it takes one to know one. I’m not saying it’s ‘bad’ to be an alcoholic as long as you’re aware of your addiction and you’re doing something about it, but c’mon…you offered the bags for sale, you accepted my money and then you decided against the sale, refunded me the $110.00 and threw the effing bags away?”

I Saw It Again

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..,last night, and you know that I shouldn’t.

I’ll almost certainly never speak to the great Richard Lester, 91, but if somehow this were to happen, I would begin by praising Juggernaut (’73) and The Three Musketeers (’74). I would also sing the praises of Petulia (’68) — a landmark film. And then…

Sic Semper Tyrannis

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Humphrey Bogart to Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene: “There are certain sections of New York, Congressperson, that I wouldn’t advise you to try to invade.”