Welcome to Londongrad

I’d like to be able to lie and get away with it, but the truth is this: If I could somehow become the recipient of a sizable amount of Russian cash, I would probably take it and run like a thief. I feel ashamed to admit this.

Rage of Red Panda

Directed and co-written by Domee Shi, Turning Red (Pixar, 2.11) is a big deal in Asian-American circles as it focuses on on Meilin “Mei” Lee, a 13-year-old Chinese-Canadian student who lives in Toronto. The basic hook is that Mei “is horrified to discover that whenever she gets too excited or stressed, she turns into a giant red panda.” But the importance of Turning Red is that it’s only the second animated film to feature an Asian lead character, the first being 2009’s Up.

In a recent Cinemablend review, Sean O’Connell wrote that Turning Red seems to have been inspired by Michael J. Fox‘s Teen Wolf (’85). He also said that Turning Red wasn’t his cup of tea. For the crime of saying this, O’Connell was villified yesterday. Asian-American Film Twitter wanted his throat cut.

Angrily disagreeing with a review is par for the course, but calling for a critic to be drawn and quartered is what Stalinist wokesterism is all about.


Read more

Manhattan Project Presentism

Remember the legendary Jen Yamato, one of Hollywood’s leading advocates for Presentism and Tribal Representation, complaining to Joel and Ethan Coen in 2016 about Hail Caesar, which is set in 1951, being almost entirely cast with white people?

Yamato: “I asked the Coens to respond to criticisms that there aren’t more minority characters in the film. In other words, why is #HailCaesarSoWhite?”” In response to which Joel and Ethan basically called Yamato an idiot who knew nothing about how stories are written.

“It’s an absolute, absurd misunderstanding of how things get made to single out any particular story and say, ‘Why isn’t this, that or the other thing [included]?’’ Joel said. ‘It’s a fundamental misunderstanding of how stories are written. So you have to start there and say, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Well, wokester “presentism” is back with an ardor and a vengeance, it would seem. Certain Twitter psychos are complaining that Christopher Nolan‘s currently shooting Oppenheimer is guilty of the same thing. As Cleavon Little might have said in Blazing Saddles, “Hey, where all da black and Asian people at?”

The reason that the cast of Oppenheimer is seemingly all Anglo Saxon is presumably because history tells us that the Manhattan Project principals were entirely Anglo Saxon. Yes, I realize that the real reason is that Nolan is a racist who is foursquare against casting actors of color — he’s not fooling anybody! But at the same time the history of the Manhattan Project has been researched and reported, and it is what it is.

Yolando Machado? Mett Jen Yamato!

Worth it for Facial Mimicry

On 6.18.91 the late Johnny Carson was slapped in the mouth by a Celebes ape — aka a crested black macaque or black ape. His name was “Doc.”

Everyone has seen this clip, I presume,. but the best part, I feel, isn’t the slap but the mimicry stuff that begins around the 3:40 mark.

This is how Hollywood Elsewhere relates to all animals — I talk to them in their language. I meow, I whimper, I moan, I make little noises with my mouth. Basic emotional tone is what matters, but you also have to reach out.

Javier Vibes

Last night Javier Bardem and Nicole Kidman, costars of Being The Ricardos. were given the Maltin Modern Master award by the Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival. Inside the Arlington Theatre, I mean. Kidman appeared remotely due to a hamstring injury. The legendary Leonard Maltin himself handled the interviewing honors. It was a generally pleasant evening.

Neither Javier nor Nicole will win in their respective categories — Will Smith will take the Best Actor trophy, and the Best Actress Oscar will be won by either Jessica Chastain or (my fondest wish) Penelope Cruz, aka Mrs. Javier.

But I’d like to nominate or even hand an award to Javier for being the best person nominated in a major category — the kindest and warmest and most accessible fellow in the 2022 Oscar constellation.

Why? It’s all subjective but it comes down to something that happened 15 years ago in Cannes. That would be 2007 — the No Country for Old Men year. Javier and I were sitting on the the Cote d’Azur beach in the evening, and I bummed a Marlboro light from the guy, and as we parted company a few minutes later he gave me another — one to grow on, so to speak. I’ve never forgotten that moment, and that’s why I like him so much.

Update: I’m now thinking I might’ve gotten that wrong. The extra Marlboro Light episode might have happened at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, either in ’07 or ’08. But what’s the difference?

Cumberbatch Does Hammond

The Power of the Dog‘s Benedict Cumberbatch (aka “stinky Phil Burbank”) was the big hotshot guest last night at the Santa Barbara Film Festival.

Interviewer Pete Hammond quoted a Vulture contributor who had called Cumberbatch “the new king of celebrity impressionists.”

Cumberbatch shifted in his seat for four or five seconds, and then suddenly decided to attempt an impression of Hammond. It happens at the 00:24 mark: “Oh, God, what have I let myself in for?…hah-hah-hah-hah! Oh…it’s Peter Parker…I mean, Spider, the Spider strange…aaah-hah!”

Jubilant Hammond response while flopping back in his chair: “Huh-hah-hah-HAH! That’s great! I love that, I love that.”

Read more

“Juicy” Gets 150 Days In The Slammer

“I am NOT suicidal! And I am innocent…I did not do this!”

Judge James Linn: “You’ve turned your life upside down by your misconduct and shenanigans. You’ve destroyed your life as you knew it. You wanted to get the attention and you were so invested in issues of social justice, and you knew this was a sore spot for everybody in this country… You were throwing a national pity party for yourself. [What you did was the act of a] charlatan…profoundly arrogant and selfish and narcissistic. You’ve turned yourself from riches to rags. Your very name has become an adverb for lying.”

This Is Your Life, Ryan Coogler

This really, actually happened.

“This situation should never have happened. However, Bank of America worked with me and addressed it to my satisfaction and we have moved on,” Coogler said in a statement to Variety.

“Morons…I’ve Got Morons On My Team”

All films need to be projected with sufficient light (i.e., 15 foot lamberts) but especially those with a deliberate and intentional dark palette. It’s possible that the reason for the complaints was that the theatre hosting The Batman wasn’t projecting sufficient light. Yes, I’m bending over backwards to allow for the possibility that the people who complained may have been amply motivated. I doubt it, but I’m trying to be generous.

Note: The above photo of a sign explaining that Greenberg refunds would have to be limited was posted within a 4.3.10 article titled “Big Greenberg Divide.”

Brilliant

If I never again hear Kamala Harris nervously laughing in response to a question about Ukrainian refugees, it’ll be too soon.

A Frigid Night in Lyon

Originally posted on 3.3.13: “A reading of Stanley Kubrick‘s 9.29.69 screenplay makes it fairly obvious that Napoleon would have had the same vibe as Barry Lyndon, and been spoken the same way and framed and paced the same way.

“Okay, the lead character would be a determined egomaniacal genius instead of an amoral Irish lout and Napoleon would have more than one battle scene, but beyond these and other distinctions we’re talking the same line of country. Everything Kubrick wanted to accomplish or put into Napoleon he put into Lyndon — simple.

“Remember the scene when Ryan O’Neal‘s Lyndon asks the pretty blonde fraulein if he could pay her for a meal, and then the follow-up scene inside her cottage when they carefully and delicately get around to talking about him staying that night and being her lover, etc.?

Consider this scene from Kubrick’s Napoleon — same tone, same idea, same sexual undercurrent. A lonely soldier, a poor young woman, etc.

EXT. LYON STREET – NIGHT

It is a witheringly cold winter night, in Lyon. People, bundled up to the eyes, hurry along the almost deserted street, past empty cafes which are still open. Napoleon, 16 years old, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, passes a charming, young street-walker, about his own age. He stops and looks at her, uncertainly. A large snowflake lands on her nose which makes him smile.

GIRL: Good evening, sir.
NAPOLEON: Good evening, Mademoiselle.
GIRL: The weather is terrible, isn’t it, sir?
NAPOLEON: Yes, it is. It must be one of the worst nights we have had this winter.
GIRL: Yes, it must be.

Napoleon is at a loss for conversation.

NAPOLEON: You must be chilled to the bone, standing out of doors like this.
GIRL: Yes, I am, sir.
NAPOLEON: Then what brings you out on such a night?
GIRL: Well, one must do something to live, you know. And I have an elderly mother who depends on me.
NAPOLEON: Oh, I see. That must be a great burden.
GIRL: One must take life as it comes. Do you live in Lyon, sir?
NAPOLEON: No, I’m only here on leave. My regiment is at Valence.
GIRL: Are you staying with a friend, sir?
NAPOLEON: No…I have a…room…at the Hotel de Perrin.
GIRL: Is it a nice warm room, sir?
NAPOLEON: Well, it must be a good deal warmer than it is here on the street.
GIRL: Would you like to take me there, so that we can get warm, sir?
NAPOLEON: Uhhn…yes, of course. If you would like to go there. But I have very little money.
GIRL: Do you have three francs, sir?