This is a scene from Alfred Hitchcock‘s I Confess (’52). Please notice what happens at almost exactly the 1:51 mark, and especially how Dimitri Tiomkin‘s score slightly intensifies when this thing (i.e., an arrival of a new character) occurs.
From Albert Brooks in Defending My Life (MAX, currently streaming):
Rob Reiner: “Any thoughts about what happens after you die?”
Brooks: “The first time I had a colonsocopy, I wanted one every day. It’s like the greatest sleep in the world, and if you woke me up a thousand years later, I wouldn’t have any idea. So I imnagine that’s what [death] is. It’s like having a colonoscopy…a big one.”
Woody Allen at the 2017 AFI Diane Keaton tribute, 5.6.17 — 5:00 mark):
“Diane and I walk the streets and talk about movies,. her love life…just general stuff. Life, death. She’s always had mortal fear of death, and I tell her there’s nothing to worry about because if you’ve ever had a colonoscopy…they give you an injection and you’re out and it’s black and peaceful and nice. And so death…is like a colonoscopy. The problem is that life is like the prep day.”
I’ve actually been thinking about this heavenly procedure because….ahh, forget it.
Rosen is the host — he panelists are Bill McCuddy, smiley-faced Perri Nemiroff and the candid Roger Friedman. A good bunch, good talk.
The Maestro section (starting at 5:08, ending around 9:40) is the best portion.
Bill McCuddy: “What we gotten from Maestro is a very, very good movie…it’s not a miniseriers. It’s a biopic about a guy I didn’t think I cared about until I saw this. And yet it’s very devoted to Carey Mulligan, who has the last shot in the film.”
Once upon a time The Spirit Awards were known as the “indie Oscars”. This handle was generally accepted between the early ’90s to mid 20teens. But that ship began to leave port when the woke Covid virus infected everything and especially after a Branch Davidian cult within the leadership overturned the apple cart by destroying gender acting categories.
I’m not kidding or exaggerating — talent + markeing & publicity are still playing along because “where’s the harm?”, but the Spirits have gone totally wacko, and nobody cares what they think (not really) because they’re encamped on planet Pluto.
That said, here are HE’s preferences. comments and predictions among the 2024 Film Independent Spirit Award nominations, which popped this morning — Tuesday, 12.5.
Best Feature
ALL OF US STRANGERS / (forget it — Andrew Scott is fine, but Paul Mescal‘s Van Dyke whiskers are a complete stopper)
AMERICAN FICTION / HE, should win, probably will win.
MAY DECEMBER / (even with the power of the Frirnds of Todd Haynes + the Branch Davidians can’t push this through to a win)
PASSAGES / (generally detestable)
PAST LIVES / (gentle, passive, under-energized….peaked last January)
WE GROWN NOW / (who?)
Best Director — i.e., where’s American Fiction‘s Cord Jefferson?
Andrew Haigh, ALL OF US STRANGERS / no way
Todd Haynes, MAY DECEMBER / slight chance but doubtful
William Oldroyd, EILEEN / haven’t seen it
Celine Song, PAST LIVES / winner by deafult? The fix has been “in” for months but is diminishing.
Ira Sachs, PASSAGES / Nope
Best Lead Performance (gender neutral — all sexual persuasions and species are welcome on a “whatever you can hustle up” basis)
Jessica Chastain, Memory” / If it weren’t for American Fiction‘s Jeffrey Wright, I would vote for Chastain — her best peformance since Zero Dark Thirty.
Greta Lee, “Past Lives”
Trace Lysette, “Monica”
Natalie Portman, “May December”
Judy Reyes, “Birth/Rebirth”
Franz Rogowski, “Passages” (hateful)
Andrew Scott, “All of Us Strangers”
Teyana Taylor, “A Thousand and One”
Jeffrey Wright, “American Fiction” / should win but you never know with the Branch Davidians.
Teo Yoo, “Past Lives” (forget it)
Best Supporting Performance
Erika Alexander, “American Fiction” (not a big enoughh role)
Sterling K. Brown, “American Fiction” (playing a no-bullshit gay guy….could win!)
Noah Galvin, “Theater Camp”
Anne Hathaway, “Eileen” (haven’t seen it)
Glenn Howerton, “BlackBerry” / HE is split on preference between Howerton and The Holdovers‘ Da’Vine Joy Randolph — if there were gender categories both would win in their respective categories — Glenn is great in this.
Marin Ireland, “Eileen”
Charles Melton, “May December” / HE will never get the Melton thing — he;s caugth on in a way that defies any known standard or system of industry lkogic other than the fact that he;’s half-Korean on his mother-s side — fairly bizarre
Da’vine Joy Randolph, “The Holdovers”
Catalina Saavedra, “Rotting in the Sun”
Ben Whishaw, “Passages” (ixnay)
Best Screenplay
“American Fiction” or “The Holdovers” ought to win…equakl perference.
The rest: “Birth Rebirth”, “bottoms”, “Past Lives”, “The Holdovers”
Best International Film<./p> — where is The Taste of Things?
“Anatomy of a Fall” (way overpraised)
“Godland”
“Mami Wata”
“Totem”
“The Zone of Interest” (maybe)
Friendo to HE: “Saturday Night Fever isn’t even that good, but the opening makes me think movies will never be this good again.”
HE to friendo: “My initial thought when I first saw it was ‘nothing good can come from a film in which the star (John Travolta) dresses this horribly’…those high-heeled boots, grotesque bell bottoms…that awful bridge-and-tunnel haircut.
“There’s glory in the Brooklyn disco dance numbers, of course, and the tearful ending works, but I despised guys like this back in the day.”
Plus Nik Cohn‘s original New York story was piped.”
Friendo to HE: “I know but that opening scene. Pure genius.”
There’s a brief sequence toward the end of Maestro that’s fun and a bit sad. Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) and his aliing wife Felicia Montealegre are enjoying their three kids — Jamie (Maya Hawke), Nina (Alexa Swinton) and Alexander (Sam Nivola) — as they dance along to Shirley Ellis‘s “The Clapping Song.” The scene works, feels right.
It reminded me, of course, of Ellis’s other big mid ’60s hit, “The Name Game“, and how I never understood who the fuck “Ahno” is.
At the 1:06 mark Ellis sings the following:
“Ahno!
“Ahno Ahno bo-bar-no
“Bo-na-na, fanna fo-gay-no
“Fee-fi-muh-mah-mo
“Ahno!”
Go ahead and listen — I’m not mishearing. The 1:06 mark.
Today I checked the lyrics online and discovered Ellis is supposed to be saying “Arnold,” except she doesn’t.
“Arnold!
“Arnold, Arnold bo-bar-nold
“Bo-na-na, fanna fo-far-nold
“Fee-fi-muh-mar-nold
‘Arnold!”
…with a little touch of Pietro Annigoni’s JFK portrait for Time magazine back in ‘62 or thereabouts This is what Bell’s Palsy has done since last weekend. For the time being my looks are destroyed — I can’t smile, my right eye sags, dogs howl when I pass by.
Froj “Grand Appetites and Poor Things” Anthony Lane, The New Yorker, 12.1.23:
“One of the funniest things about Poor Things is the headline that appeared in Variety after the film’s première at the Venice Film Festival, on September 1st: ‘Emma Stone’s Graphic Poor Things Sex Scenes Make Venice Erupt in 8-Minute Standing Ovation.’
“Laying aside the giveaway verb — no eruptive dysfunction here — one can but marvel at the blush of puritan shockability in such a response. It’s a charming idea that the audience was stirred not by any dramatic skills on the part of the leading lady but exclusively by her valor as she dared to feign the gymnastic arts of love.
“There is indeed a fair dollop of carnality in Lanthimos’s movie, but it’s hardly a torrent. ‘Furious jumping,’ Bella calls it, in a fine example of her poetic plain speaking, and, having sampled it, she wants more. Sprawled in postcoital languor next to [Mark Ruffalo‘s] Duncan, she asks, ‘Why do people not do this all the time?’ — an excellent question to which I, like Duncan, have no satisfactory reply.
“What matters most is that the sex, pace Variety, is not some isolated bout of friskiness; it takes its place in a larger comedy of appetites, as Bella hungers to steep herself in experience. If she dislikes a mouthful of food, she spits it out. When she dances, she jerks like a doll gone mad.”
Juror No. 2 director Clint Eastwood in full-codger, Gabby Hayes mode:
Hollywood Elsewhere would also like to submit to Ozempic, but it’s too costly.
This note is spot-on. You can’t logically think yourself into the realm of satori. You have to just let it in in a way that sidesteps your giant intellect.
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