Jimmy Kimmel was the opening guest on last night’s Real Time with Bill Maher, but as soon as he came out all I could think about were his shiny shoes — black lace-ups with a chunky shape and thick heavy soles. Kimmel was wearing NYPD shoes. Or, if you will, civil servant shoes. Every New York cop I’ve ever seen wears a pair. Good for walking around in for hours and hours, but the kind of shoes that a typical metrosexual (or, say, a typical northern Italian male with a coveted sense of style) wouldn’t be caught dead in. Walk into a room with these clunkers on and right away people think “Jesus, does this guy work for the fire department or for the Port Authority or sanitation?” They’re almost as ugly as orthopedic comfort shoes. No knock against Kimmel — he can do anything he wants — but all through the segment I was asking myself, “Why is he wearing those things?”

Fox has deep-sixed Lou Dobbs, the rickety rightwing toad, Trump fellator and big-lie spewer. His show was highly rated but allegedly not that profitable? (Or unprofitable?) Plus he was one of three Fox hosts named in the recent $2.7 billion Smartmatic defamation suit relating to false conspiracy theories used in attempts to overturn the 2020 United States presidential election. Dobbs lives on a 300-acre horse farm in Wantage Township, New Jersey.

Passed along on Twitter by Russell Crowe, re-posted on Facebook by Tim Appelo, and slightly edited by yours truly:

“Christopher Plummer…I worked with him twice. The Insider (’99) and A Beautiful Mind (’01). Good man, fine actor.

“We were sitting on the Beautiful Mind set one day, and for some reason we began talking about Network (’76). Particularly the performances of Peter Finch and Ned Beatty. He told me that in the London theatre world of the 60s that Finch had a fearsome reputation. He’d come to the West End from Australia and had brought with him a certain inability to suffer fools combined with a deep unquenchable thirst the moment the curtain came down.

“Chris was at an actor’s party with a young lady he’d just started seeing. Somewhere far down Kings Road in Chelsea. She had recently broken up with Finch. Peter arrived looking for her and was in a very confrontational mood. Finch followed the couple around the party, making disparaging remarks. Eventually the young woman had enough and told Chris that they should leave. Not a lot of black cabs at that end of Chelsea late on a Sunday night, but luckily the young lady had her own car. So they left the party, Chris feeling somewhat relieved.

“As they got into her car and readied to drive off, the back door opened and Finch jumped in. ‘Take me back to Soho,’ he bellowed. ‘There’re no cabs.’ Thinking acquiescence wiser than confrontation at this point, off they drove. But the journey [was soon colored by] Peter spewing a torrent of abuse from the back seat. About Chris, about her, about trust, truth, love, sex, talent…non-stop.

“As they were approaching Sloane Square the young lady pulled over and ordered both men to get out. “Both?”, Christopher asked. “Yes, both of you,” she replied. So they did and she sped off without looking back.

“So here was Christopher, the young Canadian just beginning his career and Finch — drunken, aggressive, boorish, actorly genius under lamplight. Chris told me he was chilled with fear. Peter had threatened him with physical violence a number of times and he felt for sure he was about to suffer a beating at the hands of someone who’s performances he had admired greatly. Too cruel.

“Finch turned to Plummer, eyes ablaze, and in an instant the anger left his face, and the piercing knives of his eyes resolved into something impish and charming. “Thank fuck we got rid of her” he bellowed mellifluously, echoing off the empty street. He then whispered, “Let’s find a drink.” They [soon] became friends.

“I loved working with Chris on The Insider. He was just so impressive. It was a travesty that his role didn’t receive an Academy Award nomination because everyone talked about and knew that it was [one] of a handful of truly formidable performances that year.

“We worked together again on A Beautiful Mind. Occasionally we would spend time together after work. He preferred one on one — a good drink, not just any drink. I appreciated his candor and wisdom.

“As actors do in the big circles we swing around, and we fell out of touch. I reached out to him in 2012 after he won his Academy Award to say ‘on behalf of Finch and I, welcome to the club.’ He laughed.

“Rest In Peace, Mr. Plummer.”

Remember when $20 bills used to mean something, above and beyond what you might tip the valet guy? Nowadays you need to carry a few $50 bills around just for the feeling of them in your hand, for that wonderful crispness and to remind yourself that you’re alive and cooking and planning ahead…that you have blood in your veins and thoughts in your brain. I love $50 bills! Happiness is roaming around lower Broadway (south of Houston) or Hanoi’s old town with six or seven $50 bills in your money clip.

Someone on Tiktok posted a video of Trump in Florida this weekend. They say he was handing out $50 bills. pic.twitter.com/Vq5fTswok3

— Hunter Walker (@hunterw) February 5, 2021

In a just-posted column, The Ankler‘s Richard Rushfield riffs on Variety’s “toadying” apology for Dennis Harvey’s Promising Young Woman review (offered 11 months after initial publication) as well as the deafening, coast-to-coast silence from columnists and critics about Variety, as part of the grovelling process, throwing poor Harvey under the bus. The exceptions (so far) have been Collider‘s Jeff Sneider, author and former Variety critic Joseph McBride, The Guardian‘s Peter Bradshaw, “Across the Movie Aisle” podcasters Sonny Bunch, Alyssa Rosenberg and Peter Suderman, and myself.

All I can say is thank God that N.Y. Times editors had the courage and the character to exterminate a latent racist who threatened the safety of other persons of color. Ever thus to reporters who are dumb enough to engage in a frank discussion with a student who may or may not be offended by anyone mentioning the “n” word in whatever context.

Confession & apology by former N.Y. Times reporter Donald G. McNeil, deemed insufficient and warranting termination with extreme prejudice.

…hide your young ‘uns.

Last night and for the silliest of reasons, Facebook’s Douglas Himebaugh (“Widescreen: A Film Discussion Podcast”) asked for estimations of John Sturges‘ The Magnificent Seven (’60) vs. Antoine Fuqua‘s 2016 bullshit remake. The response was 90-10 in favor of “what’s wrong with you?” and “why are you even asking this?” Akira Kurosawa‘s The Seven Samurai (’54), which I’m not a big visual fan of, was not part of the discussion.

“Hell, I’d piss on a spark plug if I thought it’d do any good!” — Barry Corbin as General Berenger in John Badham‘s WarGames.

My first viewing of WarGames happened 37 and 2/3 years ago, but it feels like yesterday. A split second after Corbin said this line, I immediately muttered to myself “please, please don’t put awful images in my head…a fat Air Force General pissing on a battery in somebody’s ratty back yard in Bumblefuck, Tennessee…I’m telling you I can’t stand it!”

On one hand the SAG ensemble award nomination of Spike Lee‘s Da 5 Bloods is a harbinger of Oscar favor…no? There’s also the view that the Golden Globe shutout (no Best Picture nom, Delroy Lindo cold-cocked) is not really consequential or predictive at all in terms of Oscar favor. The SAG ensemble thing matters much more, I’m told. But another handicapper says the previous view is wrong, and that 12 films that were nominated for the SAG ensemble award have failed to snag a Best Picture nomination (12 SAG shortfallers) while only six Golden Globe nominees failed to land a Best Pic nom. The bottom line is that the Globes have a better Oscar track record than SAG.

And what about the BAFTA long list? 15 directors are on that roster (including The Mauritanian‘s Kevin Macdonald) ) but not Spike Lee. He’s a big enough brand-name helmer that he should be able to make the long list. On the other hand the same handicapper believes that Lindo has a decent chance. Lindo has won Best Actor trophies from the Boston, Chicago and New York critics. On top of which there’s the “if you don’t vote for Lindo, you’re probably a closet racist” card. Between the merit and the guilt, Lindo is probably in pretty good shape. Many admire his performance. My guess is that he lands a nomination but probably won’t win. Sorry but my gut says what it says.

This morning The Hollywood Reporter‘s Tatiana Siegel revealed that a secretly-shot, four-part documentary about the whole Woody-Mia-Dylan thing (Jesus…again?) will soon air on HBO. It’s called Allen vs. Farrow. Episode #1 will be shown on Sunday, 2.21 with subsequent episodes airing over the next three Sundays.

The tone of the Siegel article, in particular a paragraph that says the forthcoming Kirby Dick-Amy Ziering miniseries is “reminiscent” of Dan Reed‘s Leaving Neverland, another HBO-aired investigative piece about sexual predation, gave me concern in view of the fact that Reed’s doc eviscerated Michael Jackson with first-hand victim testimony. Not to mention Siegel’s statement that the Kirby-Ziering doc contains “exclusive, in-depth interviews on the subject with Mia Farrow, Dylan Farrow, Ronan Farrow and family friend Carly Simon“….what is this, some kind of deny-the-facts hit piece? Where are the Woody friendlies?

An hour ago I emailed and texted the following to co-director Kirby Dick:

“Kirby,

“We’ve conversed in Park City once or twice, but you’re not expected to remember. We know a few of the same people, etc.

“I have two urgent questions about Allen vs. Farrow, or more specifically Tatiana Siegel’s THR article about it, which broke this morning. Two points in particular have me concerned.

“One, by comparing it or making an analogy to HBO’s Leaving Neverland, Siegel instills a clear impression in the minds of readers that your doc is a hit piece — that it will get Woody big-time.

“Two, she states that a significant number of the talking heads are friendly to or otherwise supportive of the completely unfounded, completely unsupported by facts accusations against Woody. The talking heads mentioned in her piece are Mia Farrow, Dylan Farrow, Ronan Farrow, family friend Carly Simon…WHAT? Did you talk to Kate Winslet also?

“What about Woody himself, not to mention Moses Farrow, not to mention Soon Yi, not to mention eloquent Allen defender Bob Weide, not to mention…??

“I’m guessing that (a) Siegel might be a Mia-and-Dylan supporter and that (b) she therefore wrote this article in such a way as to give an impression that Allen vs. Farrow will torpedo Woody like the Neverland doc nailed Michael Jackson. That’s just a guess.

“The other interpretation is that Allen vs. Farrow does lean toward the Farrow side and away from the Woody side in defiance of all the facts, evidence and professional conclusions of the investigators.

“Question #1: Does Tatiana Siegel know something, or is she just presenting a sketchy impression that she would like to see realized in your four-part doc?

“Question #2: Did you really not interview anyone on the Woody side (outside of prosecutors, investigators and other official examiners)?

“A sooner-rather-than-later reply would be greatly appreciated.

“Cheers — Jeffrey Wells, Hollywood Elsewhere”

In my eyes, Christopher Plummer‘s absolute peak performance was his bite-your-head-off Mike Wallace in The Insider (’99). (Key line: “No, that’s fame…fame has a 15 minute half-life…infamy lasts a little longer”). His J. Paul Getty in All The Money in the World was fairly terrific also. Previous highlights do not include The Sound of Music….sorry. But they do include The Fall of the Roman Empire, Waterloo, The Man Who Would Be King (as Rudyard Kipling), The Silent Partner (creepy bad guy opposite Elliot Gould, Susannah York), Somewhere in Time, Dolores Claiborne, A Beautiful Mind, The New World, Beginners, Knives Out. I never once saw Plummer on stage — very sorry for that. He was 91 years old.