Hi all. A quick note: If you're wondering whether I'm going to mention Bob Guccione's death today -- well, I just did.
Told you it was quick. Here now the News:
Actress Kim Novak, who put in remarkable star turns in classic movies like Bell, Book and Candle, The Man With the Golden Arm, and especially Hitchock's masterpiece Vertigo, has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Fortunately the treatment will be minimal as the cancer was caught early and Novak is sid to be in great shape otherwise. Here's to a speedy recovery to one of the most unique actresses ever to grace the silver screen.
Destiny's child, dept.: Rumors are flying all over the interwebbery today that Beyonce Knowles is pregnant with Jay-Z's single letter last named offspring. The wrinkle: Beyonce's mom says it isn't true and that if it was true, she would know. Which makes sense -- except that my wife and I kept her first pregnancy secret from her mom for months so we could surprise her on Easter. So until Beyonce or Jay-Z refute the rumor, it's still in play.
So the sequel comic to Kick-Ass is out today, and it doesn't sound at all like Mark Millar is wasting our time and John Romita, Jr.'s talent on making a load of foul-mouthed, hyperviolent shit and calling it a "realistic, post-modern" take on superheroes, when in reality the only thing that separates it from Frank Miller's recent work is that Miller at least has the saving grace of being unintentionally hilarious.
I don't want to go on the cart, dept.: Ari Up, lead singer for seminal Brit-punk band The Slits, died yesterday at the age of 48. The news came from Ari's family and was announced on her stepfather John (Johnny Rotten) Lydon's website last night. Our condolences to the family and to Ari's bandmates.
Pajiba reviewed one of those full-of-woo "documentaries" about the Mayan calendar "prophecy" (which is a load of bullshit) featuring the terminally-cute Ellen Page at one point talking about how traumatic it was to be nominated for an Oscar (which is an even bigger load of bullshit) and seems to center on author Daniel Pinchbeck explaining how using psychotropic drugs is the only way we will ever make our lives better and survive the coming change in 2012 (which is such a gigantic steaming load of bullshit that you could fertilize every farm in the world with it and still have enough left over for three presidential elections). Second best part: Reviewer Brian Prisco calling Pinchbeck a "sanctimonious fuckknob." Best part: Pinchbeck himself actually posting in the comments to whine about how unfair the whole thing was because this movie was a LABOR, a labor of LOVE, don't you plebians understand -- and actually coming across like the sanctimonious fuckknob Prisco said he was.
Sam Raimi is just fucking with us, dept.: The director has now acquired the rights to the classic John Wyndham S-F story Day of the Triffids, and says he wants to direct it . . . along with the umpty-leven bajillion other projects he has in the works, and the ten new things his wandering eye is going to compel him to buy the rights to tomorrow. I swear, Raimi is a cross between a pack rat and a magpie.
Today in who gives a fuck:
- Harmony Korine's film distributor Drag City is complaining that Netflix won't stock Korine's latest shit-show Trash Humpers, even though his other films cross more lines than this one. This ignores the fact that Trash Humpers is an even bigger fest of suck than any of Korine's other movies.
- The Parents' Television Council has gone (predictably) batshit insane over the naughty naughty sexy sexy GQ photo-shoot of the cast members of Glee, calling it child pornography -- even though every single member of the cast in the photos is over the age of twenty. PTC, I'd like you to meet a little something called reality. Get to know it a while, you might come to like it.
- Ron Howard and Will Smith are taking time off from being mediocre filmmakers to remake 1970 cult S-F film Colossus: The Forbin Project. Which would be an interesting notion if someone talented were actually involved with it. No luck there so far.
Nic Cage watch: Jor-El was in Vienna this week in his capacity as UN Goodwill Ambassador, and he used his bully pulpit to personally declare war on organized crime (like you do), and brought his war home by reading an account of a boy who was forced (by organized crime, durr hey) to eat his 15 year old brother alive. Which is only half as implausible as most of Cage's script selections.
M. Night Shyamalostinthesupermarket is reportedly set to collaborate (but not stop and listen) with Will Smiths' male mini-me Jayden on a super-duper chocolate fudgey tip top whamadoodle secret science-y fiction-y movie-y project called, for some reason, One Thousand A. E. About which the only promising thing that can be said (because it's the only thing anyone really knows) is that M. Night isn't writing it. So it has a chance of actually being watchable.
And that's the knock-down drag-out, bare-knuckle news. Hoppe you enjoyed. I'd like to stay but now is the time on Nighthawk Postcards when we must stache: