[Steven Spielberg‘s latest film has already been heavily reviewed, discussed, spoiled and Twitter-poked. Nonetheless spoiler whiners are hereby warned.]

I caught Steven Spielberg‘s The Fabelmans (Universal, 11.11) last night, and like everyone else I was prepared to be mildly disappointed. Because the word on the street is that this 151-minute family film isn’t nearly as great as those suck-uppy Toronto critics said it was. A decent film in many respects, some have said, and highlighted by a few…make that three stand-out scenes, but calm down. So I was ready for a mixed-bag experience, and that’s exactly what I realized it was as I left the theatre around 9 pm.

It’s all right in some respects and very good in terms of those three scenes (Judd Hirsch soliloquy, Gabriel LaBelle‘s teenaged “Sammy” shooting WWII battle scenes in the Arizona desert with verve and ingenuity, Sammy meeting the cantankerous John Ford at the very end) but it’s no Oscar frontrunner, I can tell you that. At best it’s a soft frontrunner because there’s no big consensus film that appears ready to elbow The Fabelmans aside.

It’s basically an overlong, broadly-played family movie about a kid learning the basic filmmaking ropes while his parents edge toward divorce, and it really doesn’t feel natural — for my money it feels too “performed”. Especially in the matter of Michelle Williams‘ Mitzi Fabelman, Samy’s colorful, excitable, piano-playing mom.

Judd Hirsch’s big scene aside, the family saga is…I’m not saying it’s boring but I wouldn’t call it especially rousing either, and Spielberg doesn’t seem to realize this. And he definitely lets it go on too long.

You have to ask “what if The Fabelmans wasn’t a largely autobiographical tale about Spielberg’s childhood…what if it was just a story about some boomer kid who loved movies and wanted to make his own?”

The fact is that without the Spielberg factor, without us knowing that this is the kid who went on to make Jaws, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List…if this was just the story of a filmstruck kid, it wouldn’t have been made because it doesn’t have that much in the way of basic magnetism…it’s just the slow story of a marriage that slowly falls apart and about how the oldest son deals with it all.

The Fabelman saga (cowritten by Spielberg and Tony Kushner) is simply not that riveting, and yet it means so much to Spielberg that he doesn’t seem to realize it’s only intermittently engaging to Average Joes. If he had realized this, he would have made it shorter. It should have run two hours max, not two and a half.

I’m not calling it a wholly unsatisfying or a poorly made film, but it’s mostly a so-so experience.

The only parts that I really liked were those that focused on Spielberg shooting and showing stuff. The marital infidelity stuff (Williams cheating on Paul Dano with Seth Rogen‘s “Uncle Benny”) was frankly trying my patience. The anti-Semitic high-school bully scene in the hallway doesn’t really work. And in the 1952 section, Sammy’s parents can’t understand why Sammy crashed his toy train set? They’ve just recently taken him to see The Greatest Show on Earth and they can’t figure it out?

The only scene I really adored was Sammy meeting grumpy old John Ford (David Lynch). The moment when the Searchers music begins playing as Sammy is looking around at the posters on the wall…this is the greatest moment in the film. Ford endlessly lighting the cigar was too much but barking at Sammy about the horizon lines was great.

The fact is that during most of the film I was losing patience. I just didn’t care all that much. I kept asking myself “when is this film going to leave the ground and get airborne”? It finally does at the very end with Ford/Lynch,

Julia Butters, who plays Sammny’s younger sister, isn’t as good here as she was in Quentin Tarantino‘s Once Upon A Time in Hollywood because she’s obliged to perform in a Spielberg vehicle in a Spielbergy fashion.

And that weird Jesus-freak girlfriend Sammy falls in with in Northern California! She was like a farcical sitcom character, like somebody out of Happy Days.

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The dreaded red wave simply didn’t materialize.

In race after race and to everyone’s surprise (including Bill Maher‘s), Democratic candidates held on, eeked out victories and even triumphed in some instances.

John Fetterman beat the Trump–supported Dr. Oz in Pennsylvania, and Georgia’s Raphael Warnock will probably wind up defeating Herschel “nutcase” Walker in a 12.6 runoff. It appeared this morning that Colorado Rep. Lauren “wackazoid” Boebert may lose her race. Also this morning Arizona’s Republican gubernatorial candidate Kari “wackjob” Lake, a Trump fave and a Big Lie proponent, appears headed for defeat.

The red wave narrative turned out to be bullshit, bullshit…a crock of steaming rightwing go-along media-concocted horseshit.

Republicans will probably have a slight House Majority at the end of the day, yes, but the bottom line is that in many states and territories voters rejected many MAGA crazies, and while it may take until early December to determine which side will control the Senate, it’s feasible that Dems might hold on to their thin majority.

I suspected that Ohio’s Trump-aligned U.S. Senate candidate J.D. Vance would prevail against Democratic candidate Tim Ryan, so I wasn’t floored when this happened. But so many wowser, fascinating things happened, and very few of them encouraging to the MAGA lions.

There’s no way you can’t call Donald Trump a diminished figure this morning.

Morbid obesity is just another way of living, eating, enduring, being, suffering. Revolutionary, balls-to-the-wall cinematic maestro Darren Aronofsky opened my heart, showed me the way. (Digital Fraser-esque makeover by “Zak.”)

Be honest — the films listed in the 4th, 5th, 6th and 10th place slots represent pure political-cultural tokenism. And you can scratch all the “major threats” except for Armageddon Time and The Whale. And all the “possibilities” except for Close and Thirteen Lives.

Industry Friendo: “There’s a historical parallel to this. Drive-in theaters used for swap meets and church services before shopping malls replaced them…”

Reported by The Verge’s Mitchell Clark on 11.7.22.

Rise up en masse like the gladiators in Capua, kill the Roman guards, strike terror in the hearts of your captors…and if they try to make you cower and shudder like you’ve been doing since ‘17 or thereabouts, tell them “sorry, buster but the ball game’s over…the sensibles are taking control and the woke wackos are on the run.”

Lila Neugebauer and Jennifer Lawrence‘s Causeway (Apple, theatrical + streaming), is an extremely solemn, snail-paced, drip-drip recovery drama.

Lawrence is Lynsey, a gay U.S. soldier who suffered brain damage during a recent tour in Afghanistan. I saw it last night, and although the running time is 92 minutes it felt like two hours, minimum.

Lawrence is believably plain, but the performance by costar Brian Tyree Henry struck me as actorish and inauthentic.

Supporting players Linda Emond, Jayne Houdyshell, Stephen McKinley Henderson and Fred Weller are good enough.

Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson and Marcus Jones have posted several Best Picture Oscar predictions. Some of their calls have merit; others are a joke. Their choices are pasted below.

Among the Thompson-Jones picks, HE has boldfaced the titles of films that are either actually good or are thought to be genuinely good, and which may seriously deserve Best Picture consideration.

In fact, before picking apart the Thompson-Jones calls, here are ten of HE’s Best Picture projections, mostly based upon the fact that the films are (or in some cases are presumed to be) actually good and/or held in high esteem, and therefore deserving of a BP nomination. These are not political predictions as much as judgment calls:

1. The Fabelmans
2. TÁR
3. Top Gun: Maverick
4. Avatar: The Way of Water
5. Babylon
6. Empire of Light
7. She Said
8. Armageddon Time
9. Bardo
10. Close

Thompson-Jones reactions: The letters UL (as in “unfortunately likely”) appear next to films that aren’t good enough but will probably be be nominated anyway. The letters NH (as in “not happening”) appear next to films that haven’t much of an emotional or political prayer. The words FORGET IT are placed next to titles which HE regards as absurd and/or ridiculous in this context.

Frontrunners:

The Banshees of Inisherin / UL
Black Panther: Wakanda Forever / FORGET IT
Elvis / UL
Everything Everywhere All at Once / / UL
The Fabelmans
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio / ANIMATION
TÁR
Top Gun: Maverick
The Woman King / FORGET IT
Women Talking / NH

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We all understand that Brendan Fraser‘s performance as the 600-pound “Charlie” in Darren Aronofsky‘s The Whale (A24, 12.9) is going to result in a Best Actor Oscar nomination, and perhaps even a win.

What many of us don’t understand is what the tearful Fraser is saying at the 45-second mark. I realize, of course, that he’s not saying “people are meerhit” but I’ve listened seven or eight times with headphones. and that’s what it sounds like — “people are meerhit.”

Update: A director friend informs that Fraser is saying “people are amazing.”

“According to the CDC, obesity impacts 49.6% of African Americans and 44.8% of non-white Hispanic Americans, compared to only 42.2% of white Americans.

“Black and Brown children are also disproportionately affected by childhood obesity. 2017 CDC data indicates that among racial groups, obesity impacts 25.6% of non-white Hispanic children and 24.2% of African American children, compared to only 16.1% of white children. These obesity disparities result from a complex confluence of socioeconomic, environmental, cultural, and psychological factors.” — Center for Healthcare Innovation, 6.8.22.

“Only 42.2% of white Americans” are obese? ONLY??

Six years ago: “The prevalence of obesity in the U.S. population has increased steadily since the 1960s — from 3.4 percent of adults in 1962 to 39.8 percent in 2016, the year of the most recent Centers for Disease Control and Prevention data. In all, 180.5 million people or 60.7 percent of the population, ages 2 and over — were either obese or overweight.”

Whenever someone passes at too young an age or due to some tragic mishap or a stroke of bad luck, someone always says that the recently departed “loved life.” Which I would call a nice but imprecise sentiment. It’s so vague it’s almost meaningless.

HE’s definition of a lover of life would be the Kinks guy who loves living adjacent to Waterloo Station.

I’m actually a lover of the splendor and symphony of all great European train stations. Ditto the great cities and towns — Paris, Rome, Munich, Hanoi, Hoi An, Milan, Prague, Venice, Arcos de la Frontera, Caye Caulker, portions of Key West, the Berkshires, Monument Valley, Lauterbrunnen — and the tens of thousands of beautiful pastoral vistas all over. Ditto my cats, my granddaughter Sutton and her parents Jett and Cait and Sutton’s Uncle Dylan, black Volvo wagons, BMW rumblehogs, heavy leather jackets, Indian or Italian dishes, vinyl record albums, cookies & cream gelato, Italian suede lace-ups, etc.

The only negative that comes to mind amidst all this joy and nurture and rapture, the only aspect of life on planet earth that I consistently have problems with and which generally darkens my worldview are…well, people. Not everyone, of course. The majority are fine. I can just can’t with the three-toed sloths.

Last Thursday (11.3) an official trailer for Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre‘s Lady Chatterly’s Lover (Netflix, 12.2) appeared. The trailer is decently cut but it obscures a basic problem that I had with the film, which I caught a couple of months ago in Telluride.

HE review, posted on 9.7.22: “Actors should be allowed to play whomever or whatever. In a perfect world none of us would or should have a problem with a straight actor playing gay or vice versa, or a non-Latino playing Fidel Castro or you-name-it.

“Acting is about submitting and becoming, and whenever a particular effort succeeds it’s glorious. I can still enjoy Alec Guinness‘s Prince Feisal in Lawrence of Arabia, his actual ethnicity be damned. I’ve always believed in his storied brilliance. All Guinness has to do is speak a line or two…sold.

“Then why, I was asking myself, did I have trouble submitting to Emma Corrin‘s lead performance in Lady Chatterly’s Lover?

“Corrin was a perfect Lady Diana in The Crown, and yet I had difficulty accepting her as a wealthy cis British woman succumbing to runting passion in the 1920s blah blah. Nor did I believe that her earthy gamekeeper lover (Jack O’Connell) had any special passion for her. I felt only the effort.

“This is probably at least partly because Corrin has been somewhat pronounced about being queer (she came out in July 2021) and adopting “they/them” pronouns and being nonbinary and wearing breast flatteners and whatnot.

“Plus there’s just something about her that seems coy and stand-offish about sensuality in any form.

“I said a somewhat similar thing about the late Olivia De Havilland when she passed in late July 2020. To me OdH always seemed to lack a sensual ignition switch. Too goody two-shoes or something. I was immediately disciplined for saying so. Variety‘s Steven Gaydos accused me of ‘pissing on her coffin.’ I replied that detecting an absence of a sensual undercurrent in De Havilland was not dismissive or derogatory.

“I’ll never not appreciate Corrin’s first-rate skills, but I just couldn’t believe that her Lady Chatterly was hungry for the proverbial thrusting loins. I kept telling myself ‘forget Corrin’s stated real-life identities’ — just sink into her soul and absorb the feelings and let the movie wash over you and carry you along. But I couldn’t.

“And I’m saying this as someone who truly loved Jonathan Groff‘s straight FBI guy in Mindhunter, Cate Blanchett‘s vampy lipstick lesbian in Carol, Kevin Spacey‘s miserable married suburbanite in American Beauty, Peter Finch‘s gay doctor in Sunday Bloody Sunday and so on. Great acting is great acting, but…well, I’ve said it.”

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