Who remembers Marc Webb and Allan Loeb‘s The Only Living Boy in New York (Roadside /Amazon, 8.11.17)? Did anyone see it? It opened almost seven years ago (i.e., eight months into the Trump administration), and a few months before the woke plague began to infect the urban liberal bloodstream.

I happened upon my review this morning and was wondering “wow, I wonder if anyone waded into this film….seven years ago is a substantial block of time.”

I found it pretty close to awful. I despised each and every well-heeled, Manhattan-residing character, but that’s a roundabout way of saying I loathed Loeb’s screenplay, which struck me as grating and precious.

Okay, I liked the line about Philadelphia being New York City’s most culturally vibrant neighborhood but that’s about it.

Loeb, remember, wrote the execrable Collateral Beauty, a Will Smith grief-recovery film which was also set in flush NYC environs. That touchy-feely ordeal was enough to condemn Loeb to a five-year sentence on a Southern chain gang, side by side with Paul Newman, George Kennedy and the others. Now he’s earned himself a life term on Devil’s Island with Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman. The man specializes in manipulative emotional goo.

Callum Turner is Thomas, a somewhat whiny, spectacle-wearing, 20something bore who’s attempting a career as a serious writer and who works as a Rizzoli-like book store to make ends meet. [News flash: No New Yorker can make ends meet in Manhattan on a retail-clerk salary.]

Thomas, who bears an extraordinary resemblance to a Northwestern timber wolf, is the son of Ethan (Pierce Brosnan), a mildly imperious book publisher, and a jittery mom, Judith (Cynthia Nixon).

Thomas is in a not-quite-there relationship with Mimi (Kiersey Clemons) who’s pretty and wise but (be honest) chubby and destined for Queen Latifah-like proportions by the time she hits her mid 30s.

Early on a grizzled 60ish alcoholic writer (Jeff Bridges) appears in Thomas’ Lower East Side apartment building and quickly becomes the kid’s avuncular wisdom-dispenser. Typical Bridges dialogue: “Schnorrrr-roar-urp-urp-schnorrrr-roarr-uhhrr,” etc.

A scene or two later Thomas and Mimi happen to spot Ethan having a cozy romantic dinner with Johanna (Kate Beckinsale), an extra-marital lover. Alarmed but also a tad aroused, Thomas begins stalking Johanna. They immediately start fencing and parrying, and before you know it Thomas is putting the high, hard one, etc.

Why is Johanna open to going stereo with Brosnan’s son? It doesn’t seem to make sense but she goes there regardless, and without telling Brosnan, of course, and so it’s dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick dick for this mama-san.

And then in Act Three comes a semi-startling piece of news that alters the dynamic between these completely tiresome characters. You don’t want to know, trust me. My main reaction was “what’s with all the secrecy? Is this a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel in which mothers and wives have to hide secrets and atone for decades or at least carry guilt around for their past sins?”

We’ve all known for years that Hunter Biden is “a wrong one”…a bad seed, a rotten apple, a fellow of deplorable character. He needs to go to jail, wear the orange jumpsuit…no getting off easy. His dad obviously needs to throw him under the bus and “walk away”, if only for appearance’s sake.

We all have to pay the bills but…

[6:05 pm] TheRE waS a technical issue that surfaceed three or four hours ago…possibly a Disqus issue, possibly a WordPress plugin problem. Iengaged an excellent freelance WordPress person named Kim, and she’s remedied the problem to a certain extent. So we’re out of the woods as we speak. Thanks, Kim! For the time being, at least.

A handicapping friendo who didn’t see Substance in Cannes, and therefore was unsure about Demi Moore‘s chances of snagging a Best Actress nom, got in touch yesterday: “Does Demi Moore have a shot at a Best Actress nom?”

HE to friendo: “Moore soldiers through Substance, but it’s a smart body-horror exploitation film with a feminist sheen. Appreciation and respect, but no Oscar action. Okay, she might be nominated because of the metaphor of women suffering on the altar of wanting to looking younger, and because voters might figure Moore deserves an honorary gold watch because she’s a former Brat Packer in her early 60s. And because it’s a weak year.”

We’ve all read about the many people who worked on Dick Powell‘s The Conqueror in ’54, and wound up succumbing to cancer in the ’60s and ’70s. John Wayne died from cigarettes, but Powell and costars Susan Hayward and Pedro Armendáriz were probably fallout victims.

This trailer for The Conqueror: Hollywood Fallout suggests frankness, intelligence. It’s probably a decent effort. I’ve asked for a link. It opens on 6.28.

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John Wayne‘s Temujin to Pedro Armendariz‘s Jamuga: “This Tartar woman is for me…my blood says ‘take her'”

Above and beyond the camp factor, The Conqueror is primarily known as the worst radioactive fallout and subsequent cancer affliction film in Hollywood history.

Exteriors happened in the vicinity of St. George, Utah, which is 137 miles (220 km) downwind of the United States government’s Nevada National Security Site. It received the brunt of nuclear fallout from testing active in this period.

“In 1953, 11 above-ground nuclear weapons tests occurred at the site. By the end of 1980, as ascertained by People magazine, 91 cast and crew members had developed some form of cancer and 46 had died of the disease.”

Wikipage excerpt: “Director Dick Powell died of cancer in January 1963, seven years after the film’s release. John Wayne, Susan Hayward and Agnes Moorehead all died of cancer in the 1970s. Pedro Armendáriz was diagnosed with kidney cancer in 1960, and killed himself in June 1963 after he learned his condition had become terminal.

“Several of Wayne and Hayward’s relatives who visited the set also had cancer scares. Michael Wayne developed skin cancer, his brother Patrick had a benign tumor removed from his breast, and Hayward’s son Tim Barker had a benign tumor removed from his mouth.”

A friend, going on the word of a colleague, has just told me Steve McQueen‘s Blitz is allegedly “great.” Good to hear!

And yet World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy is rattled about what he’s hearing, or not hearing rather.

I’m asking right now for someone else to tell me that Steve McQueen‘s forthcoming Germany-bombing-Londoners-during-WWII movie, titled Blitz, is at least pretty good.

Blitz‘s Wiki page says it’s an Apple TV + thang. This morning Apple announced its original series 2024 slate and didn’t even mention Blitz in passing…not a blurt or a blurb.

Blitz is one of my biggest high-expectation flicks of the fall. Venice, Telluride…come to papa.

I worship McQueen so please save me from falling into a pit of despair. And I don’t want to hear a “have faith!” pep talk. I want the skinny.

It is my humble opinion that McQueen is incapable of making a serious shortfaller. It’s not in him. It’s flat-out inconceivable. I’m not fucking around here. This is serious.

I’ve written some folks to let’s see what develops.

For those who didn’t watch/listen to the full two-hour discussion between Kevin Spacey and the oddly named Lex Fridman, which I posted yesterday, please at least listen to this portion — a summary of Spacey’s Se7en experience, an explanation of how David Fincher often gets a “less is more” performance, and a story about Jack Lemmon being coached by George Cukor during filming of It Should Happen To You (’54).

And I was wrong. In a way I’m glad that Sundance is still operating this way. Hardcore wokester shit circa 2020 or ’21. Because people are sick of it. Sundance has been dying for four or five years now, and nobody is sorry. Die already….die die.

Please listen to these chicks and take issue with whatever, including the stuff about any and all immigrants should pour into this country and who are we to say no? And how Jesus/Yeshua and Christianity are basically a branch of oppressive paternalism and corporate-industrial mind control, etc. Revolution is happening all over.

@nickshirleyyWhat do you think about their takes on these issues?♬ original sound – Nick Shirley

Lex Fridman’s four-day-old interview with Kevin Spacey is magnificent. Completely worth the two-hour-plus investment.

Lex Fridman? It’s spelled Friedman or Freedman.