Outnumbered

I’ve always enjoyed actor Matt Damon’s work, whether in the Rounders-type suspense roles, the execrable Bourne series or even the caper string of Ocean’s 11.  And yes, I loved Good Will Hunting.  (A full list of his 100-odd acting roles is available here.)

With that many movies, our boy would be expected to be away from home a great deal, but clearly he makes up for lost time when he is home, having fathered a lorra lorra kids with his super-hot Argentinian wife.  Nothing wrong there, either.

However, I recently saw this pic of Matt and his family:

…and to be honest, while it certainly is a fine collection of ladies, I can’t help but wonder at the gender imbalance.  I mean, I have to think that there’s some menstrual “syncing” here — which is probably why the man is away from home on location a lot.

Just a guess.

As Written

Finally, someone speaks up for what’s right (albeit on a fairly trivial issue):

James Bond casting director Debbie McWilliams has said 007 should remain white and male as auditions for Daniel Craig‘s replacement continue.

Amid speculation that the character could be reinvented as a woman or played by a black actor, McWilliams, who cast the previous 14 Bond films, said Ian Fleming ‘wrote a character, and that’s the character that stays’.

Well said, ma’am.

Unfortunately, that’s not chiseled in stone (although it should be).  Why so?

McWilliams retired from her casting career prior to Amazon MGM Studios acquiring creative control of the James Bond franchise in 2025. The job of finding the next Bond now falls to casting director Nina Gold and director Denis Villeneuve.

Which means that James Bond may soon be Jamal Bond (a reformed teetotaler fresh from an AA meeting), or Jamie Bond (Lesbian Extraordinaire, with a license to munch).

Netflix has done worse, in the past.

I am so fucking sick of moviemakers turning beloved characters into something they were never intended to be.  Netflix is the prime [sic] offender in this regard, having trampled all over traditional casting to be more “inclusive” and turning roles into travesties rather than just doing the simpler (and right) thing by sticking to the formula.  But they’ve all done it in recent years, whether with Marvel characters or other such icons.

Hey, let’s hear it for Ian Of Green Gables, which tells the story of how a young boy has to make his way in the world after having been mistakenly put up for adoption with two lesbian Satanists.

What the hell:  let’s have the whole story told in flashback (like Amadeus) after Ian is sent to a psychiatric ward for having murdered his adopted lesbian step-parents (because they molested him constantly), then blew up the offices of the government adoption agency which made the original screwup.

See how this plays out when you set out to be “creative” and change everything, just to make it more “eclectic”, more “relevant”, more “inclusive” or more “edgy”?

Never mind that you’ve just turned a beloved classic story into a near-parody.

I don’t know what the hell these people think they’re doing, or how they believe that they have the right to do this to our culture.

So let’s keep James Bond a white man, with sociopathic tendencies and a harsh, cynical outlook on life — just as Ian Fleming imagined him.  It worked unbelievably well for the novel series (a.k.a. “franchise”, another word I’ve come to detest), and it worked for the Sean Connery-era of Bond movies (reflected in poll after poll, where Sir Sean continues to outrank all his successors — emphasis on “suck” — when it comes to the “ideal” James Bond).

And if The Usual Suspects don’t like that paradigm, they are free to come up with a new character and a new storyline outside the existing canon.  It will fail, of course, just as the Bond “franchise” will fail when James is replaced with “alternative” versions.

You heard it here first.

On The Reading Shelf This Week

(links in pics, if you want to dive in with me)


“The First Hero of World War II and How the FBI Outwitted and Destroyed a Nazi Spy Ring” — who could resist reading about the FBI, back when they were an actual counter-espionage force rather than somewhere for  Aldrich Ames  Robert Hanssen to sell out his country?


I’ve never dived into the Italian campaign in any depth before;  it’s time.  And Holland is one of my favorite WWII historians.


Let’s see what real climate change was all about.

Unrequested & Unnecessary

I see with some displeasure that Hollywood has made a sequel to The Devil Wears Prada, which is one of my favorite movies, but for all the wrong reasons.  (Cliff Notes:  it exposes how vacuous, self-important and thoroughly unnecessary the so-called fashion “industry” really is.  Ditto The Player, which does the same for the movie business.)

On that note, let’s play a little game.  Assume that Hollywood / Netflix / Amazon / whoever is going to make a sequel to a well-known classic movie.  Feel free to comment on which movie they’d pick, and how inappropriately they’d cast the thing.

Here are a couple-three suggestions, just to prod the creative juices:

  • Casablanca 2, starring Tyler Perry as Rick and Rebel Wilson as Ilsa;
  • Thelma & Louise 2, starring Gwyneth Paltrow as Thelma and Whoopi Goldberg as Louise;
  • Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid 2, starring Rob Schneider as Butch and Don Cheadle as Sundance.

Yes, I know how T&L and BC ended.  The premise for both is:  They Survived!  (Yeah, I know, ridiculous.  So are most sequels.)

Dabney, John & Lucy

I have to admit that I am drawn to actors and actresses who have a problem finding starring work because studio bosses (and for that matter writers, producers and even directors) can’t figure out quite what to do with them.  The reason for this is that they seem to be able to play only dark characters — which is also the reason I rather enjoy their work.

The above statement is probably a little obscure, so let me explain it by focusing on three of these people who to my mind exemplify the problem.  All are brilliant actors, all have the ability to take over any scene (at the expense of whoever is playing the scene with them), and they all do it without really wanting to, I think.  Here’s the first.

Dabney Coleman played so many roles in his long career that you’d think that he had no problem getting work.  And he didn’t, provided that it wasn’t as the star of his own show, or the leading man in a movie.  His dark, sardonic nature and biting, sarcastic manner of speaking always had me howling with laughter.  A simple example was when he played a TV spokesman for 7-11, back in the 1980s.  I still remember one commercial where he was “interviewing” some moron, who was spouting all sorts of twaddle, and when the speech ended, Dabney (with his typical comedic timing) waited for just one second, and said, “I bet your mother is very proud of you.”  He also played a brilliant bad guy, whether the Agency boss in The Man With One Red Shoe, the Hugh Hefner-type smut tycoon in Dragnet, or the evil boss in 9 To 5.  Yet his own TV shows (Slap Maxwell and Buffalo Bill) weren’t hits — which was criminal, because they were both beyond-words brilliant — because I think that to the average viewer, Dabney was unlikable — even though on real life, he was apparently anything but.  Every single person who ever worked with him had nothing but good things to say about Dabney Coleman.

The same is more or less true for John Larroquette, who, if you look at his screen credits,  has been truly successful.  Like Dabney Coleman, though, John has always been something of a dark character, even when playing straight comedy (e.g. Night Court).  I think I first saw him as Kim Basinger’s psychotic ex-boyfriend in Blind Date (which still ranks as one of the best comedies ever filmed, mostly because of Larroquette’s brilliant, insane performance);  and ever since then, I’ve loved watching him do his stuff.  Yet his best performance was not comedic.  That came when he played a recovering alcoholic running the night shift in a city bus station in The John Larroquette Show.  This was a classic example where a good actor is let down by bad writing.  The show ran for over eighty episodes, and while his costar Liz Torres scooped up award after award, Larroquette himself was only ever nominated a couple of times:  proof, if any was needed, that his unquestioned talent wasn’t apparent to most people.

Finally, we come to Lucy Punch, the aptly-named Brit actress who leaves me openmouthed with astonishment whenever I see her perform.  I first saw her in the wonderful Doc Martin TV show, playing the very eccentric — and rather sinister — receptionist for the hemophobic Cornish doctor.  She only lasted a few episodes before being replaced by the equally- eccentric, but definitely not sinister Kathleen Parkinson, and I think that may be why she was replaced:  Lucy always looked on the verge of murdering someone with an axe, and that’s not really the kind of character you want in a soft, cuddly sitcom.

Then I saw her playing that psychotic character in Dinner For Schmucks… and the vision of Lucy attacking Paul Rudd’s Porsche 911 with an axe remains with me to this day.  (The similarities between John Larroquette playing an obsessive psychotic ex-partner, and Lucy more or less reprising that role have not escaped me, either.  The difference, though, was that Larroquette was funny, whereas Lucy was pure evil.)  She’s since appeared in the Brit TV show Motherland, and she was so good that her character was spun off into her own show Amandaland.  I haven’t seen either show yet because they’re not being streamed on Netflix or Amazon Prime, but I guess I’ll just have to be patient.  (Oh, and just the thought of Joanna Lumley playing Amanda’s mother in the latter show… have mercy.)

Anyway, I guess that loving these wonderful, but rather twisted actors says something about me, but I couldn’t be bothered with thinking about that.

Long Time… Gone

I have been a fan of Formula One racing since my early teens, which makes me older than just about everyone involved in running F1 today.

Just recently, I had a problem with my AppleTV account and couldn’t change the payment method — no need for details, but it’s a fucking nightmare and would be easier if I just created a new account.  Why am I subscribing to AppleTV, you ask?  Well, late last year F1 told me that their own website (F1.com) would no longer be streaming races because they’d sold the broadcast rights to AppleTV.  Fair enough:  it’s their absolute right to do so, and the AppleTV sub was actually cheaper than the F1 sub;  so that, coupled with my desire to watch the Slow Horses TV series (read the books, loved them), I made the change even though once I’d watched all the episodes, I found that AppleTV doesn’t have much worth watching anyway.  But there was always the F1 racing, which (did I already mention? I’ve loved since my early teens) so what the hell.

Of course, the modern F1 is no longer the F1 I used to love.  Gone were the earsplitting roar and howls of V6- and V12 car engines, and in their place came hybrid engines, using pathetic little 1500cc turbo motors with laptop batteries to “boost” performance because Green Is Mighty and Internal Combustion Engines Are Evil, or some such nonsense.

Then this season saw new rules (a.k.a. the “formula” in the product description), which made the cars even MOAR BATTERY, except of course that batteries when used to propel cars at 300mph run out of spark within yards not miles, so we were greeted with the spectacle of the world’s finest drivers and the world’s most accomplished engineers becoming software managers.  Put in plain terms, cars would overtake other cars, and then immediately lose their position because their batteries were drained whilst their competitors had recharged theirs so could take back the position:  repeat ad nauseam.  Not only was the spectacle unsatisfying, it became outright dangerous, as was seen in the last race where a driver with a full battery was about to move to overtake, but the car in front suddenly lost 25mph because his battery had just gone flat.  At a closing speed of 275mph, no human reactions are quick enough to address that impending crash — but amazingly, young Ollie Bearman’s were almost that quick and he pulled off the track to avoid a massive collision.  Unfortunately, his car’s battery was still in flat-out mode, and Bearman hit the barrier head-on with a force of 50 Gs.  How he survived is a miracle;  how his electric motor didn’t catch fire and turn him extra-crispy is a credit to the engineers who built the car.  Nor did his car crumple like a newspaper and turn his skeleton into soup.

Of course, the F1 organization recognized all this for the disaster it is, and have hurriedly put through a massive rules change.  They were fortunate in that next two Grand Prix races in Saudi Arabian peninsula had been canceled because Trump’s merry war on Iran had resulted in the latter sending missiles raining on the Gulf states — and nobody wanted to see battery-powered race cars having to take action to avoid incoming SCUDs, let alone their competitors’ cars, and F1 audiences in the stands deciding that watching electric go-karts play swapalongs would not be sufficient spectacle to keep them from being turned into hamburger by the aforementioned missiles.  So F1 caught a break, and having three weeks before the next race (Miami GP), changed a whole bunch of rules, making the thing even more complex than before.  (Please watch this video — it’s less than ten minutes long — to see the absolute clusterfuck that F1 racing has become.)

Why am I telling you all this?  Because after sixty-odd years of F1 fandom, I’ve decided that enough is enough.  I’m not interested in watching what F1 has become, I don’t like what F1’s owners, the foul Liberty Media, have created — four races in the Saudi Peninsula?  WTF? — and even worse, losing various countries’ Grand Prix races because European organizers can’t match those of the oil-rich Arabs.  I mean, the entire Grand Prix concept began in France, and there’s no room on the calendar for a French GP?  WTFF?

So I’m walking away.  I would say that I’ll content myself by watching the “highlights” videos on EeewChoob, but honestly, I don’t think there will be any highlights worth watching, anymore.

Here’s a thought:  throw away the stupid hybrid engines and go back to racing with real engines, the aforementioned V6 and V8 monsters, let the drivers race these cars to the utmost limit of mechanical and human performance, and make F1 watchable again.  Like it was in, say, 1975.  (And yes I know, the cars were deathtraps.  I’m not suggesting throwing out the entire car, just the stupid engines.)

I know, I know:  “You can’t stop progress, Kim;  you can’t go back to the old ways.”

And don’t suggest I try to follow other motor racing types, either.  Once you’ve watched Formula 1, all other car types resemble tortoises and hippos racing.  Even Le Mans, which I watch every year, all 24 hours at a time if there’s no highlights video, doesn’t begin to compare.

I think I’ll start watching horse racing instead.  That is, until Liberty Media buys them out, makes the owners strap rockets to their horses’ asses “to improve the spectacle”, and gets fifty racing tracks built in Saudi Arabia to host the new F1 Horse Racing Circuit, doing away with Belmont, Saratoga, Aintree and Epson in the process.

And speaking of horses’ asses:  so long, F1/Liberty Media — and AppleTV.  Neither of you is worth the trouble of supporting anymore.