All hail “theycallmebigtuna“!….this is almost exactly what Materialists looks, sounds and feels like! This TikTok performer is right next door to phenomenal…seriously.
@theycallmebigtuna filmed and edited this while in line at in-n-out…where my burger at… #materialists #dakotajohnson #pedropascal #chrisevans #celinesong ♬ original sound – theycallmebigtuna
HE pisshounds called me a slut for posting a few enthused paragraphs about F1, so in their eyes Griffin Schiller is presumed to be just another roadside prostitute…right?
In a 6.13 chat with Variety‘s John Bleasdale, Geoffrey Rush insisted that one of the most difficult to endure films in movie history — Martin Scorsese‘s New York, New York — as well as one of the biggest cocaine movies of the ’70s was and is a comic joy.
I’m not saying Rush is wrong or deluded, but it certainly takes all sorts to make a movie-loving world.
Rush is certainly permitted to hold this opinion, of course, but there is exactly one “funny” scene in New York, New York — the one in which Robert DeNiro‘s Jimmy Doyle is thrown out of a nightclub by a couple of bouncers, and while literally being carried through a lengthy, well-lighted entranceway DeNiro manages to kick out a dozen or so lightbulbs…pure malice and spite.
The scene isn’t humorous by Average Joe standards. It’s perverse guy humor — the same kind of only-in-the-midtown-Manhattan thing that Joe Pesci got into with the late Frank Vincent in that Raging Bull Copacabana fist fight.
Otherwise New York, New York mostly gives you a headache. Honestly? During my first and only viewing I was hoping that DeNiro would get clipped or hit by a taxicab.
Rush: “I have memories of being in the Leicester Square cinema when I first went to London in the 70s and seeing New York, New York. I’ve never heard laughter like it. When you watch that film on your own, you don’t realize it’s such a big comedy.”
Randy Newman didn’t mean that LSU grads “went in dumb, come out dumb too”…he meant they began college as relatively ignorant freshmen and by the time they’d graduated four years later hadn’t much broadened their knowledge base or enriched their minds or immersed themselves in the output of great philosophers, historians, poets, politicians, playwrights, filmmakers, musicians, biographers or cultural trailblazers of whatever stripe…so in love with thinking, feeling and behaving like good ole yokels that they were kinda proud of it.
But songwriters are generally obliged to boil it all down to basics, of course, and so that lyric from “Rednecks” reads like it reads, and I chuckle every time I hear or read it.
And yet putdown-wise, I regard “dumb” in the same light as “ugly” — fundamentally cruel terms because they allude to fixed afflictions, like blindness or dwarfism or some other deformity, that a person can’t do much about. I’ve never once described anyone as being physically ugly and I never will, although I’ve alluded many times to certain persons coming from a spiritually or emotionally ugly place (certain HE comment-threaders come to mind in this regard…repeat offenders like Glenn Kenny and several others I’ve deep-sixed over the years…ditto a few toxic film critics and columnists I’ve run into over the years).
And yet what most of us mean when we say “dumb” or “dumbass” or “dumbshit” is “ignorant”, which is to say a person who’s not only under-educated but hasn’t the slightest interest in trying to remedy this situation. I’ve been accused of ignorance many times in my life, and quite often accurately. But more often than not or at least a fair amount of times I’ve not only taken this criticism to heart but have, ahem, tried to do something about it.
It’s easier today to eliminate ignorance than at any previous time in human history…the joy of encountering new information or discovering fresh knowledge is one of the most sublime and simple pleasures within reach, and it’s all on your phone.
But the more I read and learn and contemplate the sprawling toxic wilderness out there, the more I’m reminded that honorary enrollment at Louisiana State University is something we’re all kinda sorta stuck with.
According to Rotten Tomato comments thus far, Joe and Jane Popcorn are reacting negatively to Celine Song‘s Materialists.
Instead of respecting it or giving it a stamp of moderate approval (as I did) for digging down into the odd vagaries and downish moods of the 2025 dating scene, they’re angry that it’s not a romcom — they’re angry that they were deliberately lied to, and now A24 is paying the price for that deception.
Justine Bateman is the Scott Galloway of the film industry…as important of an industry seer as Scott Feinberg, Richard Rushfield, Sasha Stone, etc. Her impressions matter. So much is generated by Apple, Amazon and Netflix these days, and how many people out there really enjoy streaming their bullshit? Remember when movies (even the shitty ones) were really movies as opposed to soul-stifling “content”? It’s hard to completely divest ourselves from the simple romantic equation of theatregoing as it existed as little as 25, 30 or 35 years ago. Forget ’70s nostalgia — I miss the glorious ’90s! Hell, the early to mid aughts even!
Friendo: “Who asked for this? A half-century ago Mel Brooks has made some hilarious comedies — The Producers, Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein. Spaceballs wasn’t in that league. Then again Brooks acknowledges this in the teaser.”
HE: “Spaceballs was a genre parody that arrived too late — Mad magazine mixed with Carol Burnett-level spoofery, but with an emphasis on silly meh. And yet I still chuckle at Brooks’ “Yogurt”.
Friendo: “Spaceballs has one good joke. Brooks gets teleported, Star Trek-style, and comes out the other side with his head on backwards. He looks down and says, ‘How come nobody told me my ass was so big?!’
Abraham Lincoln on Gen. Ulysses S. Grant following the victorious but costly Battle of Shiloh: “I can’t spare this man — he fights.”
Gavin Newsom‘s anti-Trump rant following the Los Angeles street conflicts was grandstanding…of course it was. Of course he’ll be running for president in ’28…so? Of course the anti-ICE violence was flaming and anarchic and ignoble to a great extent, but then Trump’s federalizing 4000 California National Guard troops, followed by the Pentagon sending in an additional 700 Marines, was pure authoritarian brutalist theatre….needless, unrequired, inflammatory. But who else is standing up to Donald Trump and giving him what for? The HE Newsom haters can’t deny the fact that earlier this week Newsom stood up for state sovereignty and pushed the hell back.
“In five days Gavin Newsom did more practical damage to Trump, and more importantly gave more practical encouragement to Democrats….he did more good than the rest of the zombie Democratic party has done since Joe Biden was elected [in 2020].” — Keith Olbermann on “Newsom’s ‘Eff It’ Moment” (6.12.25). (And yes — Olbermann supplied the Lincoln-Grant anecdote.)
HE to Joe Dante: Thanks for sending this Bette Davis article along, bruh. I had never read this.
William Wyler’s assessment of Davis’s intense personality and what their marriage might have been like was very…uhm, illuminating.
Howard Hughes told her he’d never achieved orgasm before being with her? What shameless bullshit!
Honest confession: I’ve never seen any of Davis’s William Wyler films. Not even Jezebel! I’ve had this idea all my life that she was some kind of Ultimate Super-Bitch, and I never wanted that vibe in my head. Even with Bob Dylan‘s endorsement and all.
The only old Davis films I’ve seen are 20,000 Years in Sing Sing, Elizabeth and Essex with Errol Flynn and The Bride Came C.O.D. with Jimmy Cagney. Plus All About Eve, of course.
I’ve never even seen the one with Paul Henreid when he lights two cigarettes and gives her one of them. What is that, Now, Voyager?
Why did she have an affair with George Brent, of all people? He always struck me as a dullard.
“The Girl Who Walked Home Alone” is a fascinating biography title.
Elite industry-ites were treated yesterday to a pair of F1 looksees (mid-afternoon and early evening) — Joseph Kosinski, Brad Pitt, Jerry Bruckheimer and Han Zimmer’s high-throttle gutslammer played at IMAX corporate headquarters in Playa Vista, and apparently in whoa-mama full IMAX (1.43:1) from start to finish.
Not even a capsule review, just notes: As you might expect and will be glad to hear confirmed, F1 delivers vise-like dramatic engagement with fully deployed, grade-A acting chops from consummate superstar Brad Pitt, Damson Idris (33 year-old Brit, excellent in the late John Singleton’s Snowfall series), the great Kerry Condon and the always on-target Javier Bardem …
All hail the great, still-youngish Kosinski, who has certainly matched and arguably topped his work on Top Gun: Maverick (‘22).
A 156-minute, 21st Century big-boy compadre to John Frankenheimer’s Grand Prix (‘66) and Steve McQueen’s Le Mans (‘71), F1 revs and rouses and vibrates your rib/soul cage, leaving you buzzed, breathless and all the rest of that classic race-car-movie stuff….you know the drill.
Does anyone wipe out a la crash-boom-bang? You don’t want me to answer this so let’s drop it. Okay, someone does but I’m sworn to secrecy, etc.
We all think of howling, high-speed track racing as an individual sport, but the high-torque F1 game can involve a one-team, two-car strategy with one driver running interference for another, depending on the situation. Plus it’s important to know the difference between hot and cold tires, and of course the drivers and pit crew are constantly jabbering while the loudspeaker guy narrates what’s happening…whew.
Pitt’s 50something Sonny Hayes is great company, a great hang. His dominance blends his cocksure Once Upon a Time in Hollywood stunt guy Cliff with, shall we say, a note of approaching-the-big-upward-slope anxiety…fear of not cutting it like he used to.
As hotshot British driver Joshua Pearce, Idris holds his lane and then some, becoming a no-fucking-around foil for Pitt’s old-school Sonny.
And Condon, a deliciously charismatic IRA psychopath in 2023’s In The Land of Saints and Sinners, is the sexy, brainy love interest for Braddy-waddy…a heart-of-gold gal who’s run a few laps around the track herself.
The Hans Zimmer score is said to be double-triple exceptional, especially during the final race when it all happens within a completely visceral, all-alone, immersive, this-is-it, you-are-there fashion without the element of loudspeaker narration or cheering crowds or anything peripheral.…
That’s enough for now. There’s a big all-media IMAX screening on Tuesday, 6.24, as well as a smattering of early-bird AMC fan screenings on Monday, 6.23, not to mention more nationwide advance showings on Wednesday, 6.25
David Corenswet and Nicholas Hoult in newly shared video. pic.twitter.com/JJOPkSkkZY
— Film Updates (@FilmUpdates) June 11, 2025
