The Cannes Film Festival team is obviously gambling that the COVID-19 pandemic will recede by late June. But what are the odds of this happening?

Yesterday I asked a local CVS manager when the next toilet-paper shipment would arrive. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Very early in the morning, but the shelves won’t be stacked until 9 or 10 am.”

I showed up this morning at 9:30 am, and discovered that employees hadn’t even attempted to put paper products on the shelves. Several large open boxes were just sitting on the floor, and customers were emptying them willy nilly — ripping the tops, lunging, grabbing — savage wolves tearing a sheep into shreds.

I didn’t want to be a hog so I just grabbed a single package of four rolls, which turned out to be the limit anyway.

I’ve decided that whatever the risks, face masks have to be worn just below the nostrils. You can breathe better that way, and it looks better besides.

In November 2016 Timothee Chalamet reportedly participated in a reading of a John Patrick Shanley play called “Tennessee.” (This is apparently not to be confused with Chalamet’s performance in Shanley’s Prodigal Son, which opened at the Manhattan Theatre Club on 2.9.16. Or is it?) One of his character’s lines included the word “dyke,” which Chalamet naturally read with whatever gusto was required.

A tape of this reading got around a couple of days ago, and a twitter community of LGBTQ wokester lunatics, offended by the “d” slur, decided that Chalamet needed to be cancelled for using a bigoted term. Again, having failed to grasp that he was reading lines from a play.

I show you the times. I show you the insanity. I show you the rabid mob. You can’t make this stuff up.

HE doesn’t believe in cancel culture, but Chalamet needed to be caned — sternly chastised — for blindly throwing Woody Allen under the bus.

for those wondering why #timothéechalametisoverparty is trending — here’s another short clip from the same read from john patrick shanley’s “tennessee” feat. caitlin fitzgerald as well

we need to stop policing artists in this way. their role in our culture is to push boundaries! pic.twitter.com/pdr9n8KcZg

— timothée in prodigal son (@prodigalsontimo) March 18, 2020

Late this afternoon I asked a manager of a nearby CVS if he’s trying to stop hoarding of toilet paper by forbidding bulk purchases. He said he’s been limiting customers to six rolls each for roughly a week now.

“The main concern, at least from my point of view, is corporate management,” he said. “They’re not hugely concerned about hoarding or rationing. All they know is that toilet paper is flying off the shelves, and that looks great on the books. In fact they’re cutting back on overhead to make the toilet-paper windfall look even better in the spring quarter and thereby increase their bonuses.”

The upside of this mess is that West Hollywood traffic is maybe 15% or 20% of what it usually is. It reminds me of the traffic levels in the below Sunset Strip video, which was taken in the summer of ’64.

The video of customers waiting to get into WeHo Pavilions (Santa Monica Blvd. and Robertson) was taken around 7 pm.

In a piece called “Woody Allen Meets The Cancel Culture,” N.Y. Times columnist Bret Stephens divulges that he’s read Allen’s unpublished autobiography, “Apropos of Nothing.” The book was recently deep-sixed by Hachette after #MeToo wokesters staged a Hachette walkout.

Stephens: “Allen’s book alleges that Mia Farrow not only brainwashed Dylan [Farrow] into believing she had been molested but also that she victimized some of her adopted children physically and psychologically, claims Moses Farrow and Soon-Yi fully corroborate.

“In one instance, according to Moses, Mia once locked up her adopted paraplegic son Thaddeus in ‘an outdoor shed overnight over a minor transgression.’

“If Mia, Dylan or Ronan Farrow were to write a book rebutting Allen’s charges — only for the publisher to buy the book and then quash it at the last minute — there would surely be an outcry. Rightly so.

“So why does any of this matter in this virus-bitten moment?

“The answer isn’t censorship: Hachette is a business that must take account of its market, while Allen is still free to shop his book to another publisher. Nor is the answer that the memoir is some priceless literary treasure that must see the light of day. Much as I enjoyed it, it isn’t.

“It matters because cancel culture threatens our collective well-being in multiple and fundamental ways: The banishment of unpopular people; the unwillingness to examine contrary threads of evidence and entertain opposing points of view; the automatic conflation of accusation with guilt; the failure of nerve by people entrusted with preserving the institutions of liberal culture; the growing power of digital mobs; the fear these mobs instill in any would-be contrarian or gadfly who thinks to venture a heterodox view. These threats go to the heart of what it means to sustain the habits of a free society.”

My day-to-day is always solitary and monk-like, and at the same time I always feel tethered to everyone and everything. Reviews, recollections, rants, counterpunchings, confessions. I’m used to the focus and the discipline. And of course I love reading and watching films on my 4K 65-incher.

But now that the usual social activities (press screenings, movie theatres, parties, restaurants, cafe-sittings, film festivals, travelling, roaming around shopping centers) are off the table, I feel as if I’m sitting on the outer rim of an extinct volcano, with a very steep slope in front of me. And that all I’d have to do is lean forward a bit in order to slide down to the bottom.

In short, I feel thisclose to being hugely depressed. Because life without the above-described activities seems incredibly barren. I still have hiking and rumble-hogging, and I can still hit Pavilions and Gelsons and the Farmer’s Market when the need arises. But man, I’m feeling blue.

Friend to HE: “Not enough tests yet, which is why they’re sticking to only symptomatic testing. Yes, another Trump screwup.

“Your own test? Easy. Take your temperature. If it’s normal, you’re fine. If it’s high, you’re potentially symptomatic and you get a test.

“Have you got a mask? That and gloves before you walk out the door. And disposed of after one wearing. Even on the bike. This is the new normal.”

Paul Mazursky‘s An Unmarried Woman (’78) captured what was happening among women of a liberal urban feminist bent in the mid to late ’70s. In some ways it felt like a remake of Mazursky’s Blume in Love — a transitional situation dramedy triggered by infidelity and divorce, only this time from the perspective of a 30something Manhattan woman (Jill Clayburgh‘s Erica Benton) rather than a male Beverly Hills divorce lawyer (George Segal‘s Stephen Blume).

Woman was more of a meditative cultural collage than a story-driven thing, especially considering the fact that Clayburgh’s character was relatively vague and unformed, even at the conclusion. Erica feels shattered and cynical when her husband (Michael Murphy) leaves her for a younger woman in Act One, and then she does a lot of flirting and floundering around before falling in love with a somewhat older British painter (Alan Bates).

But the Bates relationship doesn’t deliver a happy-ever-after as much as a “who knows what’s next?” finale that kind of leaves you wondering or hanging or something in that realm.

Mazursky delivered an approvable film that everyone had to see and talk about back then, and Clayburgh wound up with a Best Actress nomination from the Academy. She lost the Oscar to Jane Fonda in Coming Home, but Erica was known forevermore as her signature performance.

Clayburgh’s hot streak lasted for eight years, starting with Silver Streak (’76) and Semi-Tough (’77) and peaking with An Unmarried Woman, La Luna (’79), Starting Over (’79) and It’s My Turn (’80). Then came First Monday in October (’81, playing a conservative-minded Supreme Court judge) and I’m Dancing As Fast As I Can (’82). I knew after watching her irksome performance in Costa Gavras‘s Hanna K. that her “surfing the cultural zeitgeist” days were over.

Clayburgh became afflicted with chronic lymphocytic leukemia around 1990. She passed from the disease in 2010, at age 66.

The 4K Criterion Bluray of An Unmarried Woman pops on 6.9.20.

Open-air markets in which wild animals were caged and sold for food — otherwise known as “wet” markets — are (or were) primarily a Chinese cultural phenomenon. So while COVID-19 is a bat virus, the unsanitary conditions that allowed for its contagious spread stemmed from the widespread presence and cultural acceptance of wet markets in China.

From “Why ‘Wet Markets’ Persisted In China Despite Disease And Hygiene Concerns“, a 1.22.20 NPR interview. NPR’s Ailsa Chang talks with Zhenzhong Si, postdoctoral fellow at the University of Waterloo, about why China’s “wet markets” remain popular despite public health concerns tied to disease outbreaks.”

.@RichardEngel: "This is a virus that came from the territory of China but came from bats. This is a bat virus, not a China virus. It doesn't speak Chinese. It doesn't target Chinese people. It targets human beings who happen to touch their eyes, nose or mouth." pic.twitter.com/ljQeT7UQam

— MSNBC (@MSNBC) March 18, 2020

Zhenzhong Si: “And you can see from the catalog, they have almost 50 different kinds of species of wild animals being sold. And you can see the price as well. So it’s…”

Chang: “Like what kind of wild animals?”

Zhenzhong Si: “For example, hedgehogs and peacocks and wild rabbits and snakes, deer. Crocodiles as well. Many of these wild animals, they’re not necessarily caught in the wild, right? So they can be farmed animals. They’re just exotic food that’s not very commonly found.”

Chang: “And why are wild animals so popular as a delicacy in China?

Zhenzhong Si: “Eating wild animal is considered a symbol of wealth because they are more rare and expensive. And wild animals is also considered more natural and, thus, nutritious, compared to farmed meat. It’s a belief in traditional Chinese medicine that it can boost the immune system, you know? Of course, some people eat wild animals just because they were driven by curiosity. It’s really difficult to change the mindset of, you know, eating wild animals is better than eating farmed animals. But it’s a common kind of mindset in many parts of China.”

HE: “Greetings, [name]. Just returned from Austin. Strict hygienic observance, wore gloves and mask during the flights. I feel totally fine. But I’m married, as you know, and I’d like to get tested for COVID-19. I understand that clinics are only testing people who are showing symptoms, which argues with the basic idea behind the concept of responsible preventative testing (which authorities have been implementing in South Korea). Can you refer me to a clinic where I can get tested?”

Primary Care Physician: “Unfortunately I am unaware of any such place. You can not get tested at this time. [But then] the tests aren’t really useful if you don’t have a fever, as it may provide a false negative.”

HE: “I can’t even PAY to have a test done? The absence of widespread testing of non-symptomatic as well as symptomatic people is precisely why it’s spreading. People who are infected but haven’t yet experienced symptoms are walking around and spreading it obliviously.”

Primary Care Physician: “Correct. It is a systemic failure, and nowhere is it harder than on the front lines, where I am currently sitting. There isn’t really a point in testing anymore for individual purposes. Everybody should be isolated at home anyways. If you have a fever, you should assume you have COVID.”

HE: “I have nothing wrong with me — no fever, chills, congestion, coughing…zip. Remember when we first met and I told you that I have a very strong constitution and rarely get sick? And that while no one is bulletproof I’m pretty close to that?”

Primary Care Physician: “Nobody is bulletproof. Stay inside.”

HE: “Check, thanks, be well.”

So basically we’re all living the life of Harvey Weinstein. Or of Burt Lancaster in Birdman of Alcatraz. Confined, locked down. Watching and listening but not really doing anything outside of TV, computers and phone activity plus sleeping and eating. But I will not abandon rumble-hogging around town. I will continue to do that in a careful way.

This is a great reminder of how Trump lied about and ignored a clear and present danger to his fellow Americans: pic.twitter.com/ZEMm0OkMoe

— Shomik Dutta (@shomikdutta) March 17, 2020

The most fetching photo of Ana de Armas ever posted anywhere, by anyone. I think it was taken by Ben Affleck. Posted on AdA’s Instagram page.

Not many travelers on my Austin-to-Dallas Southwest flight, which leaves at 5:50 pm. Two hand washings so far, a few more to come. The second lap (Dallas to LAX) arrives sometime around 9:15 pm. 8:35 pm update: Flying over Palm Springs, likely LAX touchdown at 9 pm.

Stuart Whitman‘s life and career peaked when he starred in Guy Green‘s The Mark (’61), a bracingly frank, well-crafted drama about an ex-con trying to integrate into society and get his life going again. The title refers to his sexually odious history. Whitman was riveting — his strongest performance by far.

Otherwise he enjoyed a fairy successful career as a working actor throughout the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s and beyond. The Comancheros and The Longest Day come to mind, but Whitman never soared again after The Mark. I don’t know what else to say except that he deserves a respectful salute on this, the day of his passing at age 92.