This morning a producer friend sent me the below video (shot in September 2019) of Cafe Deux Magots. I watched, frowned and sent her the following:
In early October 1987, my ex-wife Maggie and I (plus my parents, her brother Andy and his girlfriend and three or four others) went to Cafe Deux Magots for a post-wedding reception after we exchanged vows at St. Julien Le Pauvre. The song in the air was Sting’s “We’ll Be Together.” Mild, warmish weather. Nearly 33 years ago.
I haven’t been to Cafe Deux Magots since then. It’s been around since 1884, and particularly since Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Paris heyday in the ‘20s (although Hemingway preferred Cafe de Flore), and I seem to recall it being a fairly cool Left Bank haunt when I first visited Paris in June of ‘76.
But 11 years later this storied place and in fact the whole neighborhood had begun to transition into an aggressive tourist destination, all but swamped with Americans, Germans, Brits and the like. In the same category as Cafe de la Paix near the old Opera house.
Now it seems to have been scrubbed of that old vibe and atmosphere. Still the same place, of course, but at the same time too new and gleaming and renovated. And swarming with Middle Eastern conspicuous consumption types along with all the other rubes. They kill da coolness.
A truly great Paris cafe has to radiate a certain present-tense hum (locals enjoying a slight edge over tourists) and be well maintained, but at the same time it needs to feel a tiny bit musty and tainted by history — pleasantly odorous (strong coffee, unfiltered Galouises, fresh and fragrant croissants) and faintly haunted. Today’s Cafe Deux Magots looks and feels like a Disneyworid recreation.
“Lemoine explained that he decided to make the video to express his frustration after hearing about Disney’s decision to go straight to Disney Plus. He said that he has been promoting Mulan ‘for months’ and that he and his fellow operators had hoped the film would be a key title to boost their re-opening efforts. Cinemas re-opened in France in June, and Lemoine admitted it has been an uphill battle since then to attract audiences, even in the famously cinema-hungry nation.
“It’s really a huge effort to stay open right now for most of us, but we were assuming there would be some ambitious movie releases in the coming weeks,” he said. “By losing Mulan, we lost the possibility of offering our audiences a long-awaited film that would have helped us after these past hard weeks. It is also a bad message to send to the public [who had been expecting a theatrical release].”
Posted from lounge chair on outdoor patio in 94-degree heat, and with shitty wifi to boot:
Four essential performances were given by the late, great OliviadeHavilland: (a) Maid Marian in Michael Curtiz’s RobinHood (‘37) , (b) Melanie Wilkes in GoneWithTheWind (‘39), (c) the disturbed victim in AnatoleLitvak’s TheSnakePit (‘48). and (d) the vaguely gullible woman-of-means in William Wyler’s TheHeiress (‘49).
There were other sturdy performances, but these four were the keepers. Have I seen every noteworthy Olivia de Havilland performance? No. The truth is that I found her virtuousness (which was always a central eiement) deflating and…I’ll leave it at that.
Olivia de Havilland, Joan Fontaine.
She was a fine, classy, top-tier thesp, for sure, but I gradually chose to regard OdH as more of a maidly vibe or a classic chastity brand than an actress for all moods and seasons — the intrepid woman of Paris, pushing on, the never-say-die trooper, sometimes riding her bicycle and occasionally speaking with THR’sScott Feinberg.
This may sound like a putdown, but she never conveyed even the faintest hint of eroticism…not the slightest sniff. This is what almost all leading actors and actresses do, after all — they invite you to sense the aroma. Nor could you imagine her sister, Joan Fontaine, succumbing to any such impulse. Okay, perhaps Joan occasionally thought about intimacy but that’s all. My sense is that Olivia, by the measure of her screen performances, never even did that.
OdH passed this morning (or last night) at age 104. Sweet dreams, gentle waters.
Regis Philbin, John Saxon, Olivia de Havilland — the trilogy is complete.
Variety‘s Manori Ravindran has posted an exclusive about Tenet possibly opening theatrically in Europe in late August. If I were flush I would fly to Madrid or Paris or Berlin to see it, but aren’t Americans barred from European travel?
Ravindran: “Warner Bros. is reaching out to international exhibitors about a possible late August launch for Christopher Nolan’s Tenet. If it takes place, it would mean that the twisty spy thriller, which was expected to be among the highest-grossing summer releases, will have some sort of popcorn season debut.
“Exhibitors in the U.K., France and Spain have been told by the studio to plan for an Aug. 26-28 launch. The dates are not confirmed, though sources indicate that talks are positive. It’s understood the studio is also aiming to release the film early in Asia, with exhibitors in the region expecting to receive a new date in the next few days.
“It’s worth noting, however, that given the fast-changing nature of the global health crisis, these plans could change if the situation worsens and more hotspots emerge.”
Yes, many older white voters have stopped supporting the Orange Plague, which is one reason why Joe Biden is ahead in national polling by double digits. But a hardcore contingent (roughly 37%) is sticking with this beast, and most of these voters are white. Mostly under-educated rurals but what a legacy for those of European descent. And for this I feel appalled and to some extent tribally ashamed, being a whitebread myself.
What kind of stubborn, intellectually stunted animal would vote for Trump at this stage, a stone sociopath whose denial, stupidity and mismanagement of the coronavirus threat caused or at least hastened the deaths of over 130,000 Americans and who clearly and obviously regards the world like a lying criminal?
The only defense I can offer is that there are millions of decent, fair-minded, well-educated American whites who despise Trump as much as I do. Descendants of decent, fair-minded forebears who lived politely and responsibly, paid their taxes, judged people by their character and mowed their front lawns on Saturday. Urban and suburban X-factor whites who currently watch MSNBC and read books and have visited Venice and Paris and wear Italian-made lace-ups, etc.
TRUMP: “I think mail-in voting is going to rig the election.”
WALLACE: “Are you suggesting that you might not accept the results?”
TRUMP: “I have to see.”
WALLACE: “Can you give a direct answer that you will accept the election?
Spike Lee‘s Da 5 Bloods (Netflix) is the top vote-getter in a Best of 2020 critics poll from World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy. Lee’s memory-filled Vietnam drama edged out Eliza Hittman’s Never Rarely Sometimes Always and Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man in second and third place.
Was the nation’s recent cultural and political uprising (George Floyd protests, Black Lives Matter, a repressive response on Donald Trump‘s part) a factor in critics supporting Lee’s film, especially given Lee’s artful, montage-like editing that blends past and present turmoils? That’s my suspicion but you tell me.
Over 100 “film critics, journalists, bloggers and entertainment reporters” participated in the World of Reel poll. Lee’s war film tallied 48 votes, Never Rarely Sometimes Always got 42 votes, and The Invisible Man earned 37.
The other favorites are BadEducation (#4, 30 votes), The Assistant (#5, 30 votes), First Cow (#6, 30 votes), Bacurau (#7, 29 votes), The Vast of Night (#8, 26), Shirley (#9, 25 votes), Emma (#10, 16 votes), Vitalina Varela (#11, 11 votes), Beanpole (#12, 11 votes) and The King of Staten Island (#13, 11 votes)
“HE’s Best of 2020 So Fqr” (posted on 7.9.20): Roman Polanski‘s J’Accuse (aka An Officer and a Spy), Judd Apatow and Pete Davidson‘s The King of Staten Island, Ladj Ly‘s Les Miserables, Rod Lurie‘s The Outpost, Diao Yinan‘s The Wild Goose Lake, Cory Finley and Mike Makowski‘s Bad Education, Gavin O’Connor and Ben Affleck‘s The Way Back, Spike Lee‘s Da 5 Bloods, Eliza Hittman’s Never Rarely Sometimes Always, Ken Loach‘s Sorry We Missed You, Leigh Whannell‘s The Invisible Man, Kelly Reichardt‘s First Cow.
Last March I wrote that J’Accuse, which may never be released here due to #MeToo and #TimesUp but which I finally saw that month, “has been crafted with absolute surgical genius…a lucid and exacting and spot-on retelling of an infamous episode of racial prejudice…a sublime atmospheric and textural recapturing of 1890s ‘belle epoque’ Paris, and such a meticulous, hugely engrossing reconstruction of the Dreyfus affair…a tale told lucidly…clue by clue, layer by layer. Pretty much a perfect film.”
World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy is about to post the results of a Best of 2020 critic poll. (No filmmakers this time — just seasoned dweeb cineastes.) I’m seen the results but will reserve comment until Ruimy posts tomorrow (Friday, 7.10). Was I surprised by the #1 winner? Somewhat but not entirely. Let’s just say that the vote was to some extent political.
In this upside-down year a six-month assessment doesn’t carry the same weight as before. Award-consideration-wise 2020 won’t end until 2.28.21 — or just under eight months hence. A noteworthy percentage of possibly award-worthy films may open in January or February. So determining the best films released between January and June ’20 is merely a start.
Here are Hollywood Elsewhere’s top 2020 films, coming 10 days after the six-month mark. I’m clear on the top five or six, and the rest are surging or fading as the world turns. Oh, and by the way I’m not including Hamilton, good as it is, because it’s not a film but filmed theatre — a whole ‘nother deal.
HE’s top 2020 film is still J’Accuse (aka An Officer and a Spy), which I streamed in late March. My second favorite is still The King of Staten Island. My third, fourth, fifth and sixth favorites are Les Miserables, The Outpost, The Wild Goose Lake and Bad Education.
1. Roman Polanski‘s J’Accuse (An Officer and a Spy): [posted on 3.25.20] “J’Accuse has been crafted with absolute surgical genius…a lucid and exacting and spot-on retelling of an infamous episode of racial prejudice…a sublime atmospheric and textural recapturing of 1890s ‘belle epoque’ Paris, and such a meticulous, hugely engrossing reconstruction of the Dreyfus affair…a tale told lucidly…clue by clue, layer by layer. Pretty much a perfect film.
It’s absolutely criminal that more than 10 months after J’Accuse opened at the Venice Film Festival, this awesome drama can’t even be streamed. There’s apparently no disputing that Polanski behaved odiously with two or three women in the ‘70s, above and beyond the matter of Samantha Geimer. There’s nonetheless something fundamentallydiseased about banning great art…about suppressing one of the sharpest and most exactingly reconstructed historical films ever made. The last time I checked many people were capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time. Brilliant film, personally flawed director — simple enough.
2. Judd Apatow and Pete Davidson‘s The King of Staten Island. [posted on 6.8.20] “A well-crafted film with heart and honesty and a relatable personality. And which ends…well, hopefully. You can say it’s too oddball fringe-y, too lower-depths, too submerged on its own weed planet and too caught up in nihilism and arrested development to connect with Joe and Jane Popcorn. Which I strongly disagree with. Because it’s funny and plain-spoken (if a bit dismaying at times) and it doesn’t back off from an unusual milieu and mentality, and certainly from Davidson‘s ‘Scott’, a layabout for the ages.”
3. Ladj Ly‘s Les Miserables (Amazon, opened in January,) [re-reviewed on 12.13.19]: “Ladj Ly‘s film is just as socially incisive as Bong Joon-ho‘s Parasite, and it has no insane story-logic issues. And a much better ending. It would be a major miscarriage of artistic justice if Les Miserables doesn’t at least emerge as one of the Best International Feature Oscar nominees.”
4. Rod Lurie‘s The Outpost [reviewed 3.6.30] — “A U.S. forces-vs.-the-Taliban war flick based on Jake Tapper’s book, The Outpost is a rousing, highly emotional drill into another tough battle that actually happened, and another example of the kind of combat flick to which we’ve all become accustomed — one in which the U.S. forces get their asses kicked and barely survive.”
5. Diao Yinan‘s The Wild Goose Lake. [posted on 2.13.20] “In my humble opinion, Diao Yinan‘s The Wild Goose Lake is one of the most visually inventive, brilliantly choreographed noir thrillers I’ve ever seen. One of them surely. I probably haven’t felt this knocked out, this on-the-floor, this ‘holy shit’-ified by sheer directorial audacity and musicality since Alfonso Cuaron‘s Children of Men.”
6. Cory Finley and Mike Makowski‘s Bad Education [posted on 4.28.20]: “HBO’s Bad Education is a somewhat riveting, fact-based drama about a bizarre heist in plain sight. The focus is the infamous Roslyn embezzlement scandal of the early aughts. But I couldn’t get it up when I tried to write about it. This was because I couldn’t quite comprehend the insanely self-destructive acts of administrative thievery that this film is…well, partly about. It’s also about the generally insane notion that living high on the hog is everything in life, and that all you need to sleep through this kind of brazen flim-flamming is a little vial of denial.”
On the 16th anniversary of the passing of Marlon Brando, here’s a riff that I posted on 2.25.05: “You never cared about this stuff, and you really couldn’t care less from wherever you might be now, but I’m profoundly pissed that the Oscar show producers (Gil Cates and Lou Horvitz) didn’t give you a special tribute reel of your own last night.
“Pissed and ashamed and a little bit disgusted, to be honest.
“There’s no question you were the most influential actor of the 20th Century. No one had the same impact-grenade effect…nobody. You’ve been among the deity of reigning pop icons for as long as I can remember (along with Humphrey Bogart, Elvis Presley, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, et. al.), and you’ll still be there 50 years from now. You rewrote the damn book.
Marlon Brando / 1924-2004
“But you were a bad (indifferent?) politician and a bit of a self-loather, and you let your unresolved, screwed-up stuff define too much of your life and image over the last 40-plus years.
“On the other hand Johnny Carson, whose departure happened just recently, was better liked by the industry and public, and he was a sublime Oscar host all those years. And so the Oscar guys decided to pay a special extended tribute to Carson and not you. They took, in short, the politically easy road and revealed their personal colors, not to mention the industry’s basic value system.
“Cates and Horvitz lumped the great Marlon Brando in with all the other dear and departed during last night’s ‘In Memoriam’ tribute…all right, they gave you the last slot at the end of the montage and used four stills instead of one or two…but it was still like someone saying matter-of-factly, minus any sense of sufficient sadness or reverence, that Marlon Brando is merely dead.
“The Brando tribute reel that Cates and Horvitz didn’t show (and probably never even cut together) should have proclaimed — trumpeted — that Marlon Brando lived. He lived and screamed and wept and re-ordered the universe as people knew it in 1947 in New York City, and then rocked Hollywood in the early to mid ’50s, and left them both in a state of permanent shakedown and reexamination by the time of his effective departure from creative myth-making in 1954 or ’55….and then shook things up again when he briefly re-emerged as The Man in the early ’70s (The Godfather, Last Tango in Paris).
“And all the Academy could muster was a more-or-less rote acknowledgement that you left the room in 7.1.04. Sorry, Bud, but you knew a long time ago what this town is basically about.”
I don’t want to get too cranked about Patrick Vollrath’s 7500, a terrorist-plane-hijack thriller that’s currently streaming on Amazon Prime. Because as good as it is, it’s nowhere near the level of Paul Greengrass‘s United 93 — by any measure the gold-standard in this realm.
A poor man’s version of that brilliant 2006 film, 7500 is claustrophically designed (the whole thing takes place in a pilot compartment of a commercial jet during a Berlin-to-Paris flight) and technically effective as far as it goes. It held me in its grip, and I understand why Indiewre‘s Eric Kohn has called it “the most exciting cinematic ride of the year so far.”
But at the same time I was feeling a wee bit irritated by Joseph Gordon Levitt‘s performance as Tobias Ellis, an overly emotional, bordering-on-girlyman co-pilot coping with a team of 9/11-styled fanatics. (By the way, did you know that “Muslim hijackers” is a “racist trope” and that a film that serves up same is dealing in “antiquated stereotypes“?)
The initial storming of the cabin results in the death of the pilot (Carlo Kitzlinger‘s “Michael”) but also with JGL managing to bludgeon a would-be hijacker into unconsciousness as well as keep the other two baddies out by locking the cabin door.
It then becomes a question of whether or not the most belligerent of the two lock-outs can goad JGL into opening the door in order to save the lives of two hostages with knives at their throats — a passenger and a flight attendant named Gokce (Aylin Tezel) who happens to be JGL’s wife.
We know as well as JGL that if the hijackers get into the cabin they’ll crash the jet into the middle of a major city and kill God knows how many people. Letting them in is therefore not an option. And yet director-writer Vollrath tries to wring emotional tension out of the fact that Gokce’s throat will be slit if JGL doesn’t open up…”oh, no…oh, please!”
Do you not understand the basics, Vollrath (and for that matter JGL)? The terrorists don’t get into the cockpit, and so as much as it makes us sad and anguished I’m afraid it’s “hasta la vista, baby” as far as Gokce is concerned.
A cowardly man might say “oh, no, my poor wife is going to be killed, but maybe I can save her life by allowing the terrorists into the cockpit and letting them fly the plane into the Eiffel Tower.” Only a whining, squeeky little mouse would think that way, but that’s what JGL does. He frets and grimaces and goes “oooh no, don’t kill her!” as his panicked eyes fill with tears.
Fucking little candy-ass…grow a pair! Have you ever seen a Clint Eastwood film? Learn to snarl.
And then an even bigger candy-ass comes along — Omid Memar‘s “Vedat”, a junior terrorist (18 years old) who’s a bit conflicted about mass murder. JGL senses early on that Vedat isn’t all that hardcore and might even be a soft touch. This leads to a big tussle-in-the-cockpit scene in which Vedat is openly moaning and whimpering about whether or not to thwart his radical colleagues and save the lives of JGL and the passengers. Except the whimpering goes on too long, and I realized about about 30 seconds in that Memar sounds like the crying and moaning Joan Cusack in that control booth panic scene in Broadcast News.
Here’s the Cusack mp3 — the scene itself is after the jump.
Due to roll in early ’21, the Steven Knight-scripted drama will “cover a three-day period in the early ‘90s, when Diana decided her marriage to Prince Charles wasn’t working, and that she needed to veer from a path that would put her in line to one day be queen,” Fleming reported.
Diana’s chosen path, as we all know, turned out to be sporadic and wayward, and was chiefly defined by a series of extra-marital and post-marital affairs (Barry Mannakee, James Hewitt, James Gilbey, Oliver Hoare, Theodore Forstmann, JFK Jr., Bryan Adams, Hasnat Khan). It ended tragically when she and the totally worthless Dodi Fayed died after a high-speed car crash in Paris on 8.31.97.
Right off the top, the Larrain-Knight project is flawed for two reasons.
One, nobody cares about Diana’s decision to bail on her marriage to Prince Charles in ’91 or thereabouts. What they want to see, of course, is a Harold Pinter-esque drama about her tragic, idiotic affair with Fayed with a special focus on (a) the particulars of her last few hours of life, and (b) the worldwide reaction to her death including the funeral and the Elton John performance of “Goodbye, English Rose.”
And two, the 5’5″ Stewart is way too short to inhabit the physical realm of the 5’10” Diana. Diana was seriously statuesque (5’10” in heels = six feet) and nudging the giraffe realm while Stewart — be honest — is smallish. It would be one thing if she stood 5’7″ or 5’8″ but she’s five full inches shorter than the Real McCoy — you might as well call it half a foot.
Plus Stewart doesn’t look anything like Diana in terms of eye shape or facial bone structure. She was a passable Jean Seberg as they shared certain similarities, but even the makeup guy who transformed Charlize Theron into Megan Kelly would be at a loss.
Bytheway: The 5’10”, 44 year-old Theron would be too old to play the 31 year-old Diana in Larrain’s film, but she could play the 36 year-old Diana in the Dodi Fayed version.
Larrain has twice cast too-short actresses as famous women — the 5’3″ Natalie Portman as the 5′ 7″ Jackie Kennedy (which didn’t work — Portman was simply too runty), and now Stewart as Spencer.
I’m still wearing my USA flag mask and washing my hands like Howard Hughes, but out in the big West Hollywood world people were congregating and celebrating and basically saying “fuck it…enough!” I was rumblehogging up and down the Sunset Strip around 5 pm yesterday afternoon, and you should have seen the outdoor crowds and the capacity-filled tables and sensed the general merriment…the relief! It was like being in Arkansas or Arizona or, better yet, Paris! Just about every significant cafe and eatery was open to capacity business. (Outdoors, at least.) Urth Caffe, Pink Taco, Mel’s Drive-In, Wahlburgers, Coffee Bean. And you know what percentage of the customers were wearing masks? Maybe 15%, if that. Okay, 20%.
Any film, play, book, short story, poem or song that uses the phrase “unite the world” goes right into the HE dumpster. Seriously, dude…this looks terrible.
Directed by Dean Parisot, who peaked with Galaxy Quest. Produced by Scott Kroopf and (not a typo) Steven Soderbergh. Written by Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon.