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Five Frames From ?


Everything You Ever Need To Know About Life...

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... you can learn from:

Teen Witch (1989)

Polly: Well, the price of fame and fortune 
is to be envied, then copied, and finally discarded.
Louise: Says who?
Polly: I read it some place! Probably Rob Lowe.
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Quote of the Day

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First off props to Taron Egerton for wishing Elton John a happy birthday today by sharing that photo on his Instagram -- I think I can speak for Elton, and for nearly every gay man alive, when I saw we appreciate that. A lot. Okay now on to the subject at hand -- last week I said I wasn't going to post about Rocketman anymore if the studio was going to cut out the forty second scene of butt-out intimacy between Taron and Richard Madden in order to make the movie PG-13 a la that crap-fest Bohemian Rhapsody. And yet here I am posting? It's not just because Taron posted that picture, I promise. I am not that easily suckered into breaking my word. (Close, but not quite.) The film's director Dexter Fletcher (who, we should probably remind you at this point, was also the director brought on board after Bryan Singer left BR) actually took to his Twitter to address the controversy:
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Does that mean the scene will remain? I have no idea. After Bohemian Rhapsody gay-bashed me in the face I don't feel particularly generous towards Fletcher and whatever his usage of "no holds barred" means, although we have no idea how much of that movie ended up actually being his in the end. It's a question mark. We'll have to wait and hear from people who see the movie, I guess.
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... But the Past Ain't Through With You

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I have a scar about two inches long on my back that runs just perpendicular to my spine, and nobody can tell me where it came from. I have no memory of getting injured there and I've never had any sort of surgery (that I know of, cough alien abduction cough) -- I showed the scar to my mother recently and she didn't have a clue where it came from either. And so my brain fiddles with the past. It's like shuffling a deck of cards but the cards are neither-sided -- you flip them over and over and all you see are their backs. You're trying to make stories, a history, out of nothing -- there is a empty center to your creation, and it pulses and spreads. 

Us, Jordan Peele's really very brilliant new horror film, is about a lot of things, but I feel like this absence at the heart of one's self, this unnerving feeling of otherness buried in our bellies, marked across our skins, is at its heart. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong'o) has a memory she can't make sense of, and it's haunted her for her entire life. But like with most repressed memories she finds it coming back to the surface once she revisits the site of her original trauma. More than the surface -- in the grand manner of horror films and why they matter Adelaide's trauma manifests itself with a miraculous and terrible form. Her scars take outward shape, legs, big awful sputtering eyes, a voice like tin cans.

And in expressing themselves, a perversion. We can't remember what happened to us -- the words don't come out right. The stories of our past somethings are mangled and misshapen. Our beautiful baby boys are burned up, the men we love become great big hulking monsters who bellow unintelligible nothings. Everything is flop-sided, funhouse mirrors. 

And a randomness, a chaos, becomes intermixed with and undermines our selves -- an innocent thing that wanders in, a common housefly in the science-machine suddenly spliced into our DNA; little baby broods in snowsuits wielding play-hammers -- golden scissors all the better to snip out all the bad things and make us one again. The fable of a half-remembered charity event called Hands Across America becomes, in our poisoned retellings, a sudden and spectacular atrocity -- a plague we spread locust-like across the Earth. We have no control over this violence pouring out of us. It just comes. Oozes up from the sewers. Wrong, it makes of us. Unmakes of us. Nothing but secret scars; an intimate pandemic.


A Bum For All Seasons

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Even though I haven't seen the latter yet the one-two-punch of the utterly ridiculous Serenity (my review here) and this week's Harmony Korine film The Beach Bum is making me reconsider my thickly developed distaste for Matthew McConaughey. Before 2013 I was usually fine with him (he's very funny in Magic Mike) but that Dallas Buyers Oscar season really curdled my opinion and it hasn't rebounded. (Ughhh, True Detective.) But Serenity was so hysterically bad it was admirable, and The Beach Bum looks like a thing I might enjoy, and so here we are. Here we are looking back at Korine's last film, that is, with this week's "Beauty vs Beast" over at The Film Experience. Look at my shit!!!


Ben Barnes Eight Times

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This shoot here for Flaunt Magazine is the second photo-shoot I've covered of Ben in as many weeks -- see the previous one here, and if you'd like to read the chat with Ben from this new one click here. Did anybody watch the second season of The Punisher? I don't think I even ever managed to finish the first season. Still I keep hoping they put Ben in something I feel like watching, so let's keep encouraging them. Hit the jump for the rest of this new shoot....




I'd Really Love To Touch You

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Remember when Volcano and Dante's Peak both came out in 1997? Or how Deep Impact and Armageddon both struck in 1998? What about the dueling Truman Capote movies of 2005? There's a long and rich history of fertile cinematic territory getting double-dicked like that, all suddenly at once, and it looks like the 25th anniversary of Showgirls next year is ripe for that same generous treatment. It only seems right, right?

When the Tribeca Film Festival announced its schedule at the start of this month I told you about You Don't Nomi, a documentary that is playing the fest at the end of April. You can read more about it right here on Tribeca's website -- single ticket sales start tomorrow, by the way! 

But that's not the only rodeo in town, darlin' -- Jeffrey Schwartz, the documentarian behind the docs on I Am Divine, Tab Hunter Confidential, and The Fabulous Allan Carr, is currently raising funds for his own documentary on Paul Verhoeven's great trash-terpiece via Kickstarter! Called Goddess: The Fall and Rise of Showgirls, you can check out his pitch at that link; there are some great rewards for helping them out -- they mean to have that in theaters next year for when the film celebrates its 25th birthday in September.

Will one push the other down the stairs and claim victory? What will be the difference between the two? Don't know, don't care -- you better believe I will watch them both. There is no bottom to the depths I'm willing to plunge to for Showgirls dirt. It is joy, it is ecstasy, it is better than a ten-inch dick and you know it.


Good Morning, Groff

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They're just going to go ahead and make a new season of Looking so I have more gifs to post -- I'm nearly out! There are a lot of reasons for a new season of Looking, but I think we can all agree that "Jason needs to make more gifs" is the most important reason of them all. I mean how am I going to keep wishing Jonathan Groff and Raúl Castillo and Russell Tovey and Murray Bartlett and on and on happy birthdays if this no-new-Looking trend continues? It's unsustainable. 

Anyway yes it's Jonathan Groff's birthday today -- he's turning a whopping 34, leaving his Jesus Year behind in the dust -- and we wish him a very fine one. If David Fincher wanted to give Jonathan and the rest of us, mainly the rest of us, a present for his birthday he could go ahead and announce when we'll be getting the next season of Mindhunter now...? I wouldn't hate that. Raúl agrees...



Five Frames From ?

5 Off My Head: Toon Town Forever

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With Tim Burton's live-action Dumbo re-do parading itself into movie theaters this weekend it seems a good time to look back at all the original animated films that've been inspiring these great big bloated things and take stock...
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... okay maybe not of that one specifically. Although now that I mention it, a list of weird director / property pairings would be fun to do, right? Like how Guillermo Del Toro's been trying to make Pinnochio for years. Well... that's not for today. Today I'm keeping it simple. Today I'm going to list my favorite -- not the best, just my favorites -- of their traditionally animated films. (Meaning no Pixar and no Jack Skellington.) 

My 5 Fave Traditionally Animated Disney Films

"Well, some people use their imagination."
"If I had a world of my own,
everything would be nonsense."
Fantasia (1940)
"So now imagine yourselves out in space billions and billions of years ago looking down on this lonely, tormented little planet spinning through an empty sea of nothingness."
"Never underestimate the importance
of body language."
"Yeah, forever."
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What are your favorites?
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Royale, Hold the Cheese

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Two very, very important bits of James Bond news have hit in the past 24 hours! First off (and keep this quiet, it's a secret!) the movie appears to be secretly filming some stuff right now in Norway in order to take advantage of a frozen lake they need for a s big action scene, since, you know, things'll be unfreezing soon. Permanently probably? Given the impending climate apocalypse? Anyway I'm getting off-track -- funny how Our Probable Doom keeps needling its way back to the front of my brain these days. Next! The other terribly important bit of Bond News is that Daniel Craig has reportedly been working out TWELVE HOURS A DAY in preparation for this, his supposed final turn in the super-spy's speedo. How does one even go about working out for half the hours in any given day anyway? I am not even awake that much if I can help it. Then again, I will never look like this...


Even Especially the Mad Must Dress To Impress

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"The hills had new places, and wind wielded
Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,
Flexing like the lens of a mad eye."

It's hard not to turn right to poetry (that there of Ted Hughes) in an effort to capture The Wind, director Emma Tammi's oft-silent new western of feminine survival in ye olden days -- the movie is all sound, flickering light, and the sudden fury of sentences crashing down, spattered like wet dirt on the hem of a fine dress. Our leading lady Lizzy (a fierce Caitlin Gerard), left alone on the range for longer spells than her mind can manage, begins twisting in that eponymous breeze -- time unravels, a pile of yellow yarn left piled in the corner of a wooden bunker, dotted with spectacular buttonry.

Please do note how I keep coming back to costuming -- The Wind is a solid horror film about disintegrating sanity that at times too confuses itself and us in its shuffle between the past and the present (although even more solid when you understand it's Tammi's first film -- this is the sort of first film that has you dying to watch the director's second). But the film's exquisite costuming (from designer Kate De Blasio) often raises it up from solid to outstanding -- at every turn it eschews the obvious, turning our Sarah Plain and Tall expectations against themselves. 

Lizzy's costumes have the flair of someone with way too much time on their hands and too many needles tucked into their hair -- none of the costumes are boring, even the neighbors have their oomph (you know to beware the new girl the second you see her pink dress lined with the blackest of ribbon) and Lizzy's husband (Ashley Zukerman) is always outfitted to best accentuate his comely cowboy curves. But Lizzy's fragile mental state begins expressing itself across these strange too-expensive-seeming dresses -- mad fits of clustered buttons, vicious ruffles and bustles; lines out of their time. It's all there in those sordid hems if you're just willing to see the lady-stuffs spilled before you.

The soundtrack too is particularly fine -- I don't remember a moment of particular silence, stillness, only the rigorous whispers of the prairie's dark thoughts in my ears. This, it insinuates, is what relentless loneliness sounds like -- an indecipherable circus of voices crowning at the doorstep in an unending and cruel-seeming, threat-making hum; something high and melodic to harm ourselves and our best loved ones to. The dark is a song and we sing, sing for supper. Din din.


"I'm God's lonely man."

Chris Evans Four Times

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Infinity War? More like Infinity Plaid Pants. 
Cuz see there in the mirror... oh nevermind.
See Chris talk to THR here.
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Good Morning, World


Five Frames From ?

I'm Thinking of Toni Things

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Y'all know that Synecdoche New York, the best film of the 21st century, is on Netflix now right? Here is my original review of that film, but if you scan through the site I've written a lot on the film over the past eleven years. Charlie Kaufman has only made one movie in the interim -- the stop-motion animated Anomolisa (reviewed here) -- but he's ginning up a cast for his next one, which is for Netflix (which makes the sudden appearance of Synecdoche on their platform make some sense) and which is called I'm Thinking of Ending Things, based on a book by Iain Reed

We already told you all of this when Jesse Plemons got cast in the lead! (And yes, yes, Jesse Plemons is so the lead of a Charlie Kaufman movie.) But now, as you've probably guessed off the picture up top or read elsewhere since I am always behind with this shit, Kaufman's added some more cast, and one of the "more cast" is my favorite actress Toni Collette. Cue this reaction last night:
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This is a thrill, y'all! And to whoever it is at Netflix that's as big a Toni Collette fan as I am -- she's got her series Wanderlust there and she was in Velvet Buzzsaw as well -- I owe you a great big bouquet of crisp hundred dollar bills, and pansies. And hamburgers! A bouquet of hamburgers, my treat.
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Everything You Ever Need To Know About Life...

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... you can learn from:

The Hours (2002)

Virginia: I'm dying in this town.
Leonard: If you were thinking clearly, Virginia,
you would recall it was London that brought you low.
Virginia: If I were thinking clearly? If I were thinking clearly?
Leonard: We brought you to Richmond to give you peace.
Virginia: If I were thinking clearly, Leonard, I would tell you
that I wrestle alone in the dark, in the deep dark, and that only
I can know. Only I can understand my condition. You live
with the threat, you tell me you live with the threat
of my extinction. Leonard, I live with it too.

A happy 62 to Stephen Dillane, one of this film's many many hidden treasures (speaking of Toni Collette, which we just were) -- Nicole won her Oscar for this scene but it wouldn't have been this scene without Stephen there. I keep hoping he'll get a really prime role but the closest he's come was his time spent in Westeros as Stannis the witch-fucker. To anyone who's watched it, did he have much to do in Outlaw King? I still haven't watched it -- once you've seen Chris Pine's peen there's not much hurry, I guess. Speaking of Stephen Dillane and peen though, have ya seen this ol' post of mine...?


Hugh's Homeland Is Your Homeland

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When I write the words "Hugh Dancy reunites..." I really would prefer to follow them with "Mads Mikkelsen and Bryan Fuller for more Hannibal" or even with "Patrick Wilson for more kissing" but alas, those sentences are not for today. Rather Hugh is reuniting with his other Evening co-star and oh yeah right his wife and babymama Claire Danes, for the final season of Homeland. I guess it'll be an easier commute to the set this year. He's going to play "a savvy Washington consultant" which reads to me as "Hugh in nice suits" and I like it. Don't ask me what last happened on Homeland though -- last season's a blur. I just miss watching Miranda Otto shop online for purses, honestly. (thx Mac)


Stephan James Three Times

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