#greg is not 'regular guy in billionaire world'

[biherbalwitch]

"shiv was the worst person" "roman was the worst person in the show" "logan was the worst perso-" NO! everyone is missing the opportunity to unite against the most truly vile character and that's cousin gr*g!!

[chick1996]

I'm so upset. Mitch and auston are in their prime and they have about 3 more years left to in it it, and the organization is wasting it away with below mediocre players. They didn't want to slightly overpay our ufas so now they're gone. They didn't fire keefe and get a better coach. They didn't hire a therapist who genuinely helped the team and the one who did(tom brady's Greg harden) they let him go. Literally after marmer had his most dominant season was the best player in the league for 2 months.

They don't hire skilled body guards to play on a line with marner. They stick him on a line with guys who can't protect him come playoff time bc tavares can't do too much without him and that lw on the first line is just a revolving door. The lw doesnt even go to a top player. If they don't win a cup, mitch reputation as a "failure" and "laughing stock" will be forever. And to be honest with you, I'm also a little mad at the core too. Fhe team cant afford them. Willy should get his money since he was overporducing at poverty wages. No way auston should be getting one of the highest paid contracts or even 13m when hw specializes in one thing and doesn't do too much in the playoffs. Mitch has the nebefit as he literally is the engine in the playoffs and regular season. But he should not be getting more than 11.5m right now bc of the lack of playoff success. I love the core and want them to stay together but if they want to get paid, they can't stay together bc the cap is too low. I wish they would look at the situation and take a little less and I hate to say that cause I sound like those nasty old men. But like, their world is falling apart. The home they made, their reputation/legacy, like their cap is hindering and its not their fault that the billionaires and tram want to capitalize off of them and give them scraps for their hardwork. But like come on. Something has to give. Willy is about to leave and auston and marner not telling management they want to take less to keep him is kind of upsetting. Ig I'm more upset that everyone is gonna thing the core is a cancer. They didn't before, but now they have things that exemplify the narrative.

[jbuffyangel]

Entertainment Weekly Arrow Article

We never get any big articles of Arrow, so yeah I am posting the whole damn thing. There were some interesting little tidbits and of course discussion around Emily Bett Rickards’ exit. Is it wrong that I am low key pissed that of course Arrow gets the cover of EW after she leaves? Is it also wrong that while I’m happy Arrow is getting some attention, I’m annoyed it wasn’t an Olicity cover? Cuz that’s where I am at. (X)

How Arrow saved the TV superhero — and why it had to end

As 'Arrow' prepares for the end, Stephen Amell and the producers reflect on its origin story and preview the 'Crisis'-bound eighth and final season. 

Stephen Amell is dreading the eighth and final season of Arrow, though you wouldn’t know it on this hot, sunny July day in Los Angeles. Wearing Green Arrow’s new suit, the CW star seems perfectly at ease as he strikes heroic pose after heroic pose on a dimly lit stage. But once he’s traded heavy verdant leather for a T-shirt, jeans, and baseball cap, his guard drops and the vulnerability starts to creep in as he contemplates Arrow’s last 10 episodes, which was set to begin production in Vancouver a week after the EW photoshoot took place and premieres Oct. 15.

“I’m very emotional and melancholy, but it’s time,” Amell — who is featured on the new cover of Entertainment Weekly — says as he takes a sip from a pint of Guinness. “I’m 38 years old, and I got this job when I was 30. I’d never had a job for more than a year. The fact that I’ve done this for the better part of a decade, and I’m not going to do it anymore, is a little frightening.”

Developed by Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, and Andrew Kreisberg, Arrow debuted in the fall of 2012. The DC Comics series follows billionaire playboy Oliver Queen (Amell), who, after years away, returned to now–Star City with one goal: to save his home-town as the hooded bow-and-arrow vigilante who would become known as Green Arrow (it would take him four seasons to assume the moniker). What began as a solo crusade eventually grew to include former soldier John Diggle (David Ramsey), quirky computer genius Felicity Smoak (Emily Bett Rickards), lawyer-turned-hero Laurel Lance/Black Canary (Katie Cassidy Rodgers), and the rest of Team Arrow. Together they’ve defended their city from a host of threats — dark archers, megalomaniacal magicians, and the occasional metahuman — while Lost-like flashbacks revealed what Oliver endured in the five years he was away, first shipwrecked and then honing his skills around the world to become someone else, something else.

The premiere gave The CW its most-watched series debut since 2009’s The Vampire Diaries. But before they launched Arrow, Berlanti and Guggenheim had to suffer through a failure: 2011’s Green Lantern, starring Ryan Reynolds. The duo co-wrote the script but lost creative control of the film, which flopped. So when Warner Bros. Television president Peter Roth approached them in late 2011 about developing a Green Arrow show, they were wary. After much deliberation, Berlanti and Guggenheim agreed, on the condition that they maintain control. Says Guggenheim, “As long as we succeed or fail on our own work, and not someone else’s work then maybe this is worth a shot.”

Their take on the Emerald Archer — who made his DC Comics debut in 1941 — was noteworthy from the beginning. Taking cues from films like The Dark Knight and The Bourne Identity and series like Homeland, the writers imagined a dark, gritty, and grounded show centered on a traumatized protagonist. “As we were breaking the story, we made very specific commitments to certain tonal things, such as ‘At the end of act 1, he has his hands around his mother’s throat.’ And, ‘At the end of act 2, he kills a man in cold blood to protect his secret,’ ” says Guggenheim.

A hero committing murder? That was practically unheard of then. Having Oliver suit up in a veritable superhero costume by the pilot’s climax was radical too. Sure, the Marvel Cinematic Universe was deep into Phase One when the producers were developing Arrow, but TV was traditionally more apprehensive about comic books. Smallvillefamously had a “no tights, no flights” rule and only introduced superhero costumes in the last years of its 10-season run, and there weren’t any masked avengers running around NBC’s Heroes or ABC’s No Ordinary Family, the latter produced by Berlanti (Let’s not even mention NBC’s The Cape, which was essentially dead on arrival and never did get its six seasons and a movie). But Arrow not only fully committed to the idea of someone dressing up like Robin Hood to fight crime with a bow and arrow, it introduced a second costumed rogue, the Huntress (Jessica De Gouw), in episode 7.

“It’s just comic book to the extreme and the fans seem to really love it,” says Batwomanshowrunner Caroline Dries, a former writer on Smallville. “They still maintain it very grounded, but it’s very different with everyone in costumes. The appetite for superheroes has changed in my mind in terms of like they just want the literal superhero [now].”

Not that the team wasn’t meticulous about creating Green Arrow’s cowl. “We had to have so many conversations to get it approved, but that’s why we got [Oscar winner] Colleen Atwood [Memoirs of a Geisha] at the time to [design] the suit,” says Berlanti. “We were determined to show we could do on TV what they were doing in the movies every six months.”

“It’s really easy to make a guy with a bow and arrow look silly. We sweated every detail,” says Guggenheim, who also recalls how much effort it took to perfect Oliver’s signature growl. “I actually flew up to Vancouver. On a rooftop during reshoots on [episode 4], Stephen and I went through a variety of different versions of, basically, ‘You have failed this city,’ with different amounts of how much growl he’s putting into his performance. [We] recorded all that, [I went] back to Los Angeles, and then sat with the post guys playing around with all the different amounts of modulation.”

That process took eons compared to the unbelievably easy time the team had casting Arrow’s title role. In fact, Amell was the first person to audition for the role. “It was Stephen’s intensity. He just made you believe he was that character,” says Guggenheim, recalling Amell’s audition. “We had crafted Oliver to be this mystery box character, and Stephen somehow managed to find this balance between being totally accessible in a way you would need a TV star to be, but he’s still an enigma.” After his first reading, Amell remembers being sent outside for a short time before being brought back into the room to read for a larger group: “I called [my manager], and I go, ‘I know this is not how it’s supposed to work, but I just got that job.’”

In the first season, the show’s chief concerns were maintaining both the “grounded and real” tone and the high quality of the stunts, and investing the audience in Oliver’s crusade. Beyond that, though, there wasn’t much of an over-arching plan, which allowed the show to naturally evolve — from introducing more DC characters, such as Deathstroke (Manu Bennett) and Roy Harper (Colton Haynes), sooner than they initially intended (the shot of Deathstroke’s mask in the pilot was meant as a harmless Easter egg), to promoting Emily Bett Rickards’ Felicity from a one-off character in the show’s third episode to a series regular in season 2 and eventually Oliver’s wife. Even the whole idea of a Team Arrow — which, over time, added Oliver’s sister Thea (Willa Holland), Rene Ramirez/Wild Dog (Rick Gonzalez) and Dinah Drake/Black Canary (Juliana Harkavy) — was the result of the writers allowing the best ideas to guide the story. “Greg used to say all the time, ‘You have a hit TV show until you don’t, so don’t save s—,’ ” says Amell.

Also not planned: Arrow spawning an entire shared universe. “We went on record a lot of times during the premiere of the pilot saying, ‘No superpowers, no time travel.’ But midway through season 1, Greg started to harbor a notion of doing the Flash,” says Guggenheim. “I’m a very big believer that it’s great to have a plan, but I think when it comes to creating a universe, the pitfall is that people try to run before they can walk. The key is, you build it show by show.” And so they did. First, they introduced The Flash star Grant Gustin’s Barry Allen in the two-part midseason finale of Arrow’s second season. From there, Supergirl took flight in 2015, then DC’s Legends of Tomorrow in 2016, and Batwoman is due this fall. “It’s like the hacking of the machete in the woods and then you look back and you’re like, ‘Oh, there’s a path,” says executive producer and Berlanti Productions president Sarah Schechter. But even though Arrowis the universe’s namesake, Amell doesn’t concern himself with the sibling series outside of the now-annual crossovers. “I never think about any of the other shows,” he says. “I want all of them to do great, but they’re not my responsibility. My responsibility is Arrow, and to make sure everyone from the cast to the crew are good.” His sentiments are seconded by Flash’s Gustin: “I don’t understand how he does it — his schedule that he maintains with working out, the conventions he goes to, the passion he has for it, and the love he shows towards fans. He’s always prepared. He cares more about that show being high quality than anybody else on the set.”

That said, the universe’s expansion precipitated what is widely considered to be Arrow’s best season, the fifth one. After focusing on magic in season 4, the show returned to its street-crime roots as part of “a concerted effort to play not just to our strengths but what made the shows unique,” Guggenheim says of balancing their four super-series in 2016. “Because Arrow was the longest-running Arrowverse show, we were able to do something that none of the other shows could do, which is have a villain who was basically born out of the events of season 1,” he explains of introducing Adrian Chase/Prometheus (Josh Segarra), whose criminal father was killed by Oliver. “That gave the season a resonance.”

It was midway through season 6 when Amell realized he was ready to hang up Oliver Queen’s hood. “It was just time to move on,” the actor says of pitching that Oliver leave the series at the end of season 7. “My daughter is turning six in October, and she goes to school in L.A., and my wife and I want to raise her [there].” Berlanti persuaded him to return for one final season, which the producers collectively decided would be the end. “We all felt in our gut it was the right time,” says Berlanti. Adds Schechter, “It’s such a privilege to be able to say when something’s ending as opposed to having something just ripped away.”

But there’s one integral cast member who won’t be around to see Arrow through its final season. This spring, fans were devastated to learn Rickards had filmed her final episode—bringing an end to Olicity. “They’re such opposites. I think that’s what draws everyone in a little bit,” showrunner Beth Schwartz says of Oliver and Felicity’s relationship. “You don’t see the [love story of] super intelligent woman and the sort of hunky, athletic man very often. She’s obviously a gorgeous woman but what he really loves is her brain.” For his part, Amell believes the success of both Felicity and Olicity lies completely with Rickards’ performance. “She’s supremely talented and awesome and carved out a space that no one anticipated. I don’t know that show works if we don’t randomly find her,” says Amell, adding that continuing the series without Team Arrow’s heart is “not great. Arrow, as you know it, has effectively ended. It’s a different show in season 8.” And he’s not exaggerating.

The final season finds Oliver working for the all-seeing extra-terrestrial the Monitor (LaMonica Garrett) and trying to save the entire multiverse from a cataclysmic event. “[We’re] taking the show on the road, really getting away from Star City. Oliver is going to be traveling the world, and we’re going to go to a lot of different places,” says Guggenheim. “Every time I see Oliver and the Monitor, it’s like, ‘Okay, we are very far from where we started.’ But again, that means the show has grown and evolved.” Adds Schwartz, “This is sort of his final test because it’s greater than Star City.” Along the way, he will head down memory lane, with actor Colin Donnell, who played Oliver’s best friend Tommy Merlyn in season 1, and Segarra’s Adrian Chase making appearances. “Episode 1 is an ode to season 1, and episode 2 is an ode to season 3,” teases Amell. “We’re playing our greatest hits.”

But season 8 is not just about building toward a satisfying series finale. “Everything relates to what’s going to happen in our crossover episode, which we’ve never done before,” says Schwartz. Spanning five hours and airing this winter, “Crisis on Infinite Earths” will be the biggest crossover yet and may see Oliver perish trying to save the multiverse from destruction, if the Monitor’s prophecy is to be believed. “Oliver [is told] he’s going to die, so each episode in the run-up to ‘Crisis’ has Oliver dealing with the various stages of grief that come with that discovery,” says Guggenheim. “So the theme really is coming to terms, acceptance.”

If there’s one person who has made his peace with Oliver’s fate, it’s Amell. “Because he’s a superhero with no superpowers, I always felt he should die — but he may also not die,” says Amell, who actually found out what the show’s final scene would be at EW’s cover shoot. “I cried as [Marc Guggenheim] was telling me. There are a lot of hurdles to get over to make that final scene.” Get this man some more Guinness!

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2016, Part I

Rodrigo Perez of The Playlist posted his best-of list on January 15 and spent the introduction whipping himself for it being too late to be relevant. That was over two weeks ago, and here I am. But who can feel caught up if an actual critic doesn’t? Even now, at a point when I have to turn the page, I haven’t seen Toni Erdmann, Paterson, Things to Come, or Jack Reacher: Never Go Back. Aside from pretending that my thoughts on movies are worth something to other people, I’m just a regular guy living in a film market that is not L.A. or New York, and the system for movie release schedules is broken for all of us. Most of the year is trash if we can’t go to festivals. Then we hear about interesting stuff from the critics’ top ten lists that bubble up in early December. Because the press machine follows an old model, interviews and commercials and dates on posters are timed to promote a film while it is technically on about six screens. In the case of, say, 20th Century Women, it opens in my area on January 20th. By that time it has already been judged a failure because it had to share the airspace with dozens of other pictures released in a one-month window. And Hollywood wonders why a) they lose $75 million on Live by Night or b) regular people pirate the product. Forgive those hicks for wanting to see the thing you’re selling. This pattern repeats every year, and no one learns anything because exactly two movies end up being financial successes. I hate movies. Because I hate movies, I watched 124 of them in 2016, which is a 3% decline from my viewing last year. (In consolation, my balance between classic films and contemporary ones was better.) As usual, I have ranked all 124 and divided them into the tiers of Garbage, Admirable Failures, Endearing Curiosities with Big Flaws, Pretty Good Movies, Good Movies, Great Movies, and Instant Classics. As Isabelle Huppert probably said in Things to Come, “Allons-y!” GARBAGE 124. The Bronze (Bryan Buckley) I'm reading an hour and forty minutes as the running time on imdb, but I could have sworn this laborious movie was at least five hours. The main problem here, besides profanity being a joke in and of itself, is that the film is never sure how much empathy it has toward its characters. It judges them for cheap laughs, then turns right back around and tries to wring emotion by taking them seriously. Juggling both of those modes isn't impossible, but The Bronze proves how difficult it is. I rented this on a weekend when my baby had diarrhea, which really took the viewing experience up a notch. 123. Equals (Drake Doremus) What a snoozefest of a perfume ad this is. I liked Doremus's Like Crazy a lot, but I found little nuance or invention in his world-building here, for a setting that needed something new to separate it from the emotionless dystopias we've seen before. Kristen Stewart is at watch-everything-she's-in status for me, but even her whispery performance is paint-by-numbers.

122. Dirty Grandpa (Dan Mazer) I'm mostly angry with myself because I thought I had gotten trash like this out of my system. You can learn a lot from bad movies, but I learned all I could by seeing whatever two movies were playing every Friday of high school. I had been making such better choices. I hope, at the very least, that one of Robert De Niro's failing TriBeCa restaurants was able to hire additional bartenders as a result of this. The experience is a bit like spending time with a child who has just learned how to use the F-word, but also if that child had a deeply-ingrained sense of misogyny? God bless Jason Mantzoukas for at least trying in all of these red-band write-offs. By the way, same diarrhea weekend. 121. Sausage Party (Conrad Vernon, Greg Tiernen) Up until now, the Rogen-Goldberg aesthetic has been "genre/premise...but it's filthy." Sausage Party, more of a brand management lark than anything else, seems to stretch the high concept side and the filthy side until the whole thing breaks. The atheism allegory stalls halfway through. (So there is a God, but that God is evil? Is death being expired or is death being taken home? How can the device be so heavy-handed and so muddy at the same time?) The villain (a literal douche) is adequately motivated, but the screenplay drops him for a huge stretch of time. In the end, I needed more than hot dogs cursing. I wouldn't recommend this movie, but I would recommend the three following things in it: 1. Tha god Edward Norton as Sammy Bagel Jr. 2. The epilogue is clever! Where was that kind of thinking the whole time? 3. The one joke that I liked, then felt dumb for liking: A lavash lamenting that he won't get thirty-seven extra virgin olive oils. 120. The BFG (Steven Spielberg) If you drink every time you hear "Bee-Eff-GeeeeEEEE," then you'll die. And you might be better off than a person asking "who cares?" to the ether for almost two hours.Now that his style is so solidified, a brand of its own even thirty years ago, Spielberg has trouble merging his voice with anyone else's. You could argue that he did it with The Color Purple or Empire of the Sun, but Minority Report feels nothing like a Philip K. Dick work by the end as Anderton rubs the pregnant belly of the wife he's back together with. In Jurassic Park he casts a literal cartoon to yada-yada the science that Michael Crichton was fascinated with. And here he tries to wrap himself around Roald Dahl, a man who was simultaneously way sillier and way more cynical than Spielberg. Here's something that happens about a dozen times: The BFG doesn't speak English well, despite hearing all the whispers of the world and being alive since the beginning of time. So Dahl creates malapropisms and nonsense words for him. He calls someone "a human bean," and the girl corrects him  with "Bee-Eff-GeeeEEEE, it's human BEING." And that's the film in a nutshell: Someone toying with the wacky only to yoke himself back to this boring world. 119. Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising (Nicholas Stoller) Compared to the first movie--not a masterpiece by any stretch--this one has no stakes at all. It's always a bad sign when characters have to keep repeating what their short-term goals are as the film goes on. If (when) you look really closely at Efron's abs, you can almost make out the "lol nothing matters" gif. 118. Wiener Dog (Todd Solondz) Todd Solondz hasn't made a good movie since the first half of Storytelling, and he hasn't made a financially successful movie ever. Yet here he is in 2016, getting more chances to spray the same pointless contempt. All of his movies are mean, but they're also weirdly toothless. My mistake that I thought the people who deserved scorn were venal billionaires and hypocritical authority figures. It's actually slightly materialistic middle-class people and college kids who need to be taken down a peg. Go get 'em, Todd! Danny DeVito comes close to saving his misshapen segment, injecting pathos into a character who is a self-loathing mouthpiece for Solondz. Fewer people fit the bill of "sad-sack" more than DeVito, and he wears his character's anxiety on his slumped shoulders. I had almost forgotten about this observant, reserved side of DeVito, and he takes over until the film shuffles along to another half-scene--you know, before we, God forbid, get attached to someone.There's a reason that Solondz's best scenes take place in schools, and there's a reason why he keeps returning to his younger stand-in Dawn Weiner, his only character that rises above a type. It's because Todd Solondz is still the weird kid in the back of the classroom giggling to himself. Then, when the teacher asks what he's laughing at, he looks down and says, "Nothing."

117. The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn) Bukowski wrote: "An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way." Of course, he didn't live to see any of Nicolas Winding Refn's movies, which challenge that notion. It's hard for me to reject something crafted so meticulously--I won't be able to unsee some of these shots--but I suspect that Refn dresses these things up so luridly because he isn't saying much. (Shout-out to your best movie being the only one you didn't write.) And he falls back on provocation because he doesn't have as much confidence in us as he has in himself. That's reductive I guess. "There's no difference between text and subtext" might be closer than "not saying much." Take the bathroom scene, for example, where the labored rhythm of the dialogue really takes hold. The Jena Malone character says that lipsticks have names that conjure images of food or sex, and she asks the Elle Fanning character what her lipstick name would be. In other words, "Are you food, something devoured by others, or sex, something you are active in for your own pleasure?" Luckily, the character doesn't answer her, but the movie spends another hour and a half clinging to the line between predator and prey. (Unless it's literally placing a predator into the character's motel room to force the issue, a moment as magical as it is didactic.) Beauty is something as pure as it is ephemeral. So if beauty becomes a currency, and one is forced to use her beauty as a transaction, can it ever really survive? Is its innocence lost then? Alternately, if a truly beautiful thing enters a realm of ugliness, doesn't it become a poisoning element that corrupts that environment? Isn't beauty, in that sense.../puffs joint/...ugliness? I think I'm pretty close, but you be the judge. The Neon Demon reminded me of Under the Skin, another film I did not like, because they both spell out obvious ideas, thinking that the genuinely artful visuals will complicate that text. (And the camera loves Elle Fanning as much as it does Scarlett Johansson. None of this is her fault.) Both films could probably be played at double-speed without missing much, but then they wouldn't be fables or dreams or other things I don't like. I feel as if I get what both of them are saying but...so? Both films suggest something blinding and poetic on the margins just beyond our view, but there's nothing there. Their beauty is empty. 116. Mascots (Christopher Guest) "Hi, I'm Laci." "What's your name?" "Laci." That's the time I laughed. I could have used maybe ten fewer characters--though please keep Parker Posey and her heretofore unseen physical comedy. Eerily reminiscent of the Netflix season of Arrested Development in which none of the stars were in the same room at the same time. Do I have to go back now and make sure those other Christopher Guest movies are actually good? 115. Zoolander 2 (Ben Stiller) The first Zoolander was silly fun, and I didn't expect much more from the follow-up. But man, Zoolander 2, separated by fifteen years from its predecessor, feels stale. And it isn't tonally desperate in the way that many of these belated follow-ups are; it's just an idea that culture has zipped past, more of a satire of the fashion world of the first film than anything relevant now. I laughed a scattered handful of times, but the final third is rough. My biggest takeaway: Will Ferrell must be a loyal friend to have signed back up. ADMIRABLE FAILURES 114. Tale of Tales (Matteo Garrone) I appreciate Garrone's visual ambition: There's a shot that is manicured to look exactly like John William Waterhouse's Lady of Shalott. No two films of his look the same either. But I paused this movie to go to the bathroom, and I got really upset when I saw that there were forty-five minutes left. Most of the stories of this fractured fairy tale collection start off interestingly enough, but they all become bloody, sometimes unresolved messes that assert, well, I have no idea what I was supposed to take away actually. Violence makes the world go round? 113. Swiss Army Man (Daniels) Most reviews of Swiss Army Man start with the "what"--desperate castaway finds flatulent dead body and pals around with him--and move on to the "how"--it's actually about friendship and living life to the fullest and so forth. I'm going to flip that. I'll buy the "why," the semi-animated corpse as a device. I appreciated that it served to highlight a type of person we don't normally see on screen: sort of educated but rides the bus, social problems but resists being emo, family problems but has worked through them enough. No, the "what" is the problem. It was clear where the line between fantasy and reality was, but the filmmakers were inconsistent with that logic once the action moved into the real world. I feel as if I gave the movie the benefit of the doubt for its entire tedious second act, then it repaid me with, well, not much. 112. Elvis & Nixon (Liza Johnson) Team Shannon 4-Ever, but I think this worked better as a photograph. 111. Ghostbusters (Paul Feig) I would say that Ghostbusters was a mess, but the word "mess" implies risk-taking that went wrong. A much rarer breed, this remake is actually a safe mess. It hews closely to the original, slavishly incorporating cameos from the original cast and hitting all of the same beats. But it's also uniquely incoherent. For example, when the ghosts are released into Times Square, the lady busters can't shoot at the car Slimer is driving because "it would be like a nuclear reactor." So that problem disappears, and now the problem is that the ghosts have taken the form of a Thanksgiving Day parade? But our heroes extinguish that threat, so now everyone is possessed by the garbage villain into disco dancing? And now the ghosts are all huge again? By trying to up the stakes, the film can't even decide on what the obstacle for the characters should be. That sort of muddiness would be understandable if the film felt edited to shreds, but I watched the two hour and fourteen minute extended cut, and it still felt like that. Most of the cast is game, but Kate McKinnon is the standout, injecting weirdness (and, separately, queerness) wherever she can. It seems as if Holtzmann is the only member of the team who actually sciences, and McKinnon's mugging is just as indispensable to the team. The few shots that the film takes at protective nerds are funny, so I wish that the script had more of that bitterness. Or any tone of its own at all.

110. A Hologram for the King (Tom Tykwer) Spoiler: Tom Hanks gets wi-fi for his team. There isn't much "there" there in yet another low stakes tale of a White guy lolwutting a foreign culture. To be fair, Tykwer doesn't other the Saudis as much as most films of this type, but even with that respect, this feels like a movie we've seen before. Without Tykwer's surreal touches and without an actor that has built up so much goodwill, the film wouldn't have worked at all. 109. Amanda Knox (Brian McGinn, Rod Blackhurst) The recent true crime works that prompted Netflix to snatch up this one have been objective and gripping, reaching past their tawdry roots to reveal something about our own prurient interest in the subjects. Amanda Knox, on the other hand, can't get past tawdry. It exhibits just as much sensationalism as it decries in others. It is nice to hear Foxy Knoxy in her own words for once though. (For the record, I would have had enough reasonable doubt to acquit her.) 108. Jason Bourne (Paul Greengrass) Even the title makes it seem as if there's no reason for this movie to exist, so the least I can do is provide alternate titles: 1. The Bourne Pickpocket 2. Bourne: Folder Labeled "Black Ops" 3. Bourne: Last of the Jump Drives 4. The Bourne Cable-Knit Sweater 5. The Bourne Daddy (That one is accurate and true to the The Bourne ____ structure, plus you get a millenial hashtag.) I think Greengrass knew what he had with that trill car chase at the end, so everything else could be rote. Jason Bourne felt like returning to the house you grew up in and going, "Oh, they turned my bedroom into an office."  107. Money Monster (Jodie Foster) Dumb in small ways--a billionaire didn't hear about a national news story involving his company because he was on a plane?--and fairly big ways--dropping threads left and right and failing to give resolution to one of its main characters. Films involving finance are often too complex, but Money Monster isn't complex enough; it's missing a B story. If you think about the best possible version of a movie like this, it's probably Dog Day Afternoon. That film works because we care about Sonny just as much as we do about the boyfriend on the other end of the phone. There's no equivalent for Money Monster, though it could have been the cop, it could have been the girlfriend, it could have been the code-writers. There are a few surprises, good intentions, and Foster has a deft hand for the pacing. But any time the script asked me to care about these characters as people, I felt like it was faking. Maybe the smartest, most modern touch is the suggestion that becoming a meme on Vine is a deeper indignity that going on trial for breaking international law. 106. Jane Got a Gun (Gavin O’Connor) Jane Got a Gun makes sense as a vanity project for Natalie Portman because it allows her to play a lot of qualities she never has: steely, street-smart, matronly. The problem is that she doesn't play any of those particularly well, and the title character is not the most interesting or active one in the piece.That designation would go to Joel Edgerton's Dan Frost (not the woefully miscast Ewan McGregor). When the movie works, it's because he's selling the doomed nature of the Dan-Jane love affair, tugging at his own pride. But just as the film is cresting to an elegiac place, it pulls into the final shootout station. All of these movies end with the same twenty minutes, and if you aren't invested in the characters, that last leg can go on forever. 105. April and the Extraordinary World (Franck Ekinci, Christian Desmares) Like anything steampunk, April and the Extraordinary World has at least one dumb thing for each cool thing. I think the problem is that it can't decide how much of a mystery it wants to be; that is, which elements are unexplained to engage the viewer and which elements are unexplained because the filmmakers don't feel like explaining them. The art direction has so many tiny ingenious touches that define this alternate past in Paris, so of course the movie leaves Paris for a fake jungle created by sentient lizards. The animation does have some cell-shaded, Ghibli charm though. I almost forgot how water splashing looked for ninety years. 104. Florence Foster Jenkins (Stephen Frears) Meryl Streep is in this, I guess, so feel free to throw any awards you want its way. It would be impossible for Stephen Frears, Streep, and Grant to turn in something less than competent, but, other than normalizing adultery, I don't know what Florence Foster Jenkins is doing that is novel or unsafe. Here's something: Has any review mentioned that at least fifteen minutes of running time is made up of someone singing poorly? Not a starting-to-sing and we cut away after a few reaction shots. We're riding out full performances that are--such is the premise of the film--supposed to be unlistenable. Customize your back speakers to really steer into that piercing quality on minute eight of the Carnegie Hall performance. We got the point in the first half-hour, but let's really make it unpleasant. If you like this movie, it probably reminds you of splashy, unchallenging pictures that used to get made for adults. But, as a story about a person of privilege who is coddled to absurd, harmful degrees to hide her from an undeniable objective truth, it might be the most 2016 film I saw all year. 103. Cemetery of Splendor (Apichatpong Weerasethakul) If you say so. I still don't really get this guy. Part of the point is that these mystical things are happening all around us: goddesses chopping it up at picnic tables, intermediaries taking over dead bodies and going on dream walks. And all of that is written with deadpan certainty. But if the supernatural is always presented in that nonchalant way, then is it noteworthy? At the risk of sounding like an ugly American, what else is there if the film is about a bizarre sleeping illness, but we aren't meant to believe that the condition is bizarre or an illness at all? From a directing standpoint, other than a graceful dissolve at the halfway point (and who can't do graceful dissolves?), it's just full two-shots for the length of scenes--even simpler than the composition of Uncle Boonme Can Recall His Past Lives. The last five minutes play out like an observational music video, and I think I would prefer a music video from Weerasethakul to another film.

102. Elle (Paul Verhoeven) It's useless to think about what a movie is not, but it would have been interesting to gauge the reception of this film if it didn't have the imprimatur of an interesting director and a truly great actress. Because what we get is tawdry on the level of a Cinemax feature, despite the handheld trappings of art cinema. People who laugh with the film instead of at it might point to Michele's job as a video game designer as layered: She's in the business of devising fantasies publicly, and that's often what drives her privately. But the dialogue in that space--"This is our one chance with Activision," "given your publishing and literary background..."--is too clunky and artificial to seem lived-in. (That’s what happens when a novel is written in French, the screenplay is written in English, the screenplay is translated into French, and French is the director’s third language.) And, at the most basic level, the character just doesn't seem to know what she's doing. There's one specific plot thread that I found ridiculous, but in general the screenplay seems to confuse lots of stuff happening to the character with the character authentically developing. I can see what the filmmakers were trying to do by refusing to make Michele traditionally sympathetic, but I'm out on this. 101. The Fits (Anna Rose Holmer) For a debut film, The Fits is visually decisive and polished, but it's as thin as its 72-minute runtime might suggest. The girls in the movie, for reasons no one can figure out, fall victim to fits, and those seizures become a metaphor for the inexplicable, almost mournful dread of becoming a woman. It's rare that a movie of this type works on the level of metaphor but fails as a slice-of-life thriller--the thriller tropes are kind of the easy part. I liked how locked into the setting we were, but there wasn't enough meat on the bone for me. 100. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (Gareth Edwards) The first Star Wars film that doesn't feel like an event, Rogue One has one interesting thing (what we learn about the retro-conned nature of something that happens at the end of A New Hope) and one cool thing (Darth Vader smoking some dudes). Ben Mendelsohn avails himself well I guess. But mostly the film feels like bloodless, sexless information in search of any type of humanity. What's weird, considering that A New Hope is one of the most mythologically sound films ever made, is that there isn't a lot of care spent on setting the scene. Can we see a bit more of the type of evil the Deathstar can wreak to build some stakes? Can we stay in one location for more than a few minutes? Can we not have a location named Jedah because it sounds too much like Jedi and makes me confused for a split second every time it's mentioned? I don't think I can say it any better than A.O. Scott, who considers Rogue One "a schoolbook exercise in a course of study that has no useful application and that will never end."

[investmart007]

LAS VEGAS | Robin Leach of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous' dies

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LAS VEGAS | Robin Leach of 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous' dies

LAS VEGAS— Robin Leach, whose voice crystallized the opulent 1980s on TV’s “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” died Friday. He was 76

Leach’s family said through a public relations firm that he died in Las Vegas, where he made his home.

Leach had a stroke in November while on vacation in Mexico that led to a months-long recovery, much of which he spent at the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio before returning to Las Vegas in June.

The Las Vegas Review-Journal, which ran Leach’s columns before he became ill, said he suffered another stroke Monday.

“Champagne wishes and caviar dreams” was Leach’s sign-off at the end of every episode of his syndicated show’s decade-long run that began in 1984.

The catchphrase captured excesses and sometimes gaudy style of the 1980s, a time before oil billionaires, titans of industry and Wall Street traders gave way to sneaker-wearing tech execs as the world’s richest people.

Leach appeared occasionally on the show, but he and his unmistakable English-accent narrated throughout, taking wishful viewers on tours of mansions with diamond-crusted chandeliers, yachts with Jacuzzis, and champagne that ran to four figures. It was much like rap videos would do in future decades.

Leach and producer Al Masini coined the catchphrase and conceived of the show.

“He asked me if I could get magnates T. Boone Pickens or Sam Walton to do the show,” Leach told The Huffington Post in 2016. “In my naivete, I said, ‘Of course.’ And thus, ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.'”

Leach said in later years that someone still shouted “champagne wishes and caviar dreams” at him almost daily. He was constantly parodied, and like other distinctive voices of the age like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Howard Cosell, everyone had a Leach impression.

“Saturday Night Live” consistently satirized him through the years, with Harry Shearer as a subdued Leach hosting “Lifestyles of the Relatives of the Rich and Famous” in the 1980s, and Dana Carvey as a brash, shouting Leach on “Weekend Update” in the 1990s.

Even decades later, in 2011, Snoop Dogg spotted Leach at a news conference in Las Vegas and was thrilled, rushing to grab the mic and breaking out his impression, touting his career earnings in an over-the-top English accent.

“Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” was the core of Leach’s career that spanned six decades and included stints with CNN, People magazine, Entertainment Tonight and the Daily Mail, where he began as a writer in Britain at 18.

In the mid-1970s, he tried out TV as a regular contributor to “AM Los Angeles” with hosts Regis Philbin and Sarah Purcell, and found his calling. He became a regular on television’s morning news and entertainment shows, practicing a sort of tabloid journalism that was more celebratory and light-hearted than tawdry. He often became friends with the celebrities he covered.

Then, in 1984, he landed “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” and gained his own fame.

The gaudy show became wildly popular, but never with critics. “They wrote that television had reached an all-time-low,” Leach told The Huffington Post. “But I looked at the ratings every Monday morning, and I was rubbing my hands with glee.”

He was also an executive producer and occasional writer on the show, and hosted a brief spinoff, “Runaway with the Rich and Famous.”

For the show’s final year, with producers looking to liven up the aging property, he had a younger co-host, actress Shari Belafonte. The show was retitled “Lifestyles with Robin Leach and Shari Belafonte” but the new look didn’t save it.

In 1999, Leach went to Las Vegas to work with celebrity chefs at the Venetian casino-resort, and made the move permanent, becoming a fixture in the city as he covered the destination’s entertainment and lifestyles for America Online and his own website. He also wrote for the Las Vegas Sun and, most recently, for the Las Vegas Review-Journal.

He made frequent appearances on the celebrity reality TV circuit, hosting VH-1’s “The Surreal Life: Fame Games” and appearing on the celebrity editions of “Wife Swap” and “Who Wants to be a Millionaire.”

He was among the founders of the Food Network, selling his equity for a big payday when the channel took off. Married once and divorced, Leach spent much of his later years in the company of his three sons, Steven, Rick and Greg, and several grandchildren.

“There is this image of a guy in a hot tub, drinking champagne with two buxom blondes,” Leach told the Las Vegas Sun in 2011. “But that is not the real me. I am a father, and I am a grandfather, too.”

By REGINA GARCIA CANO and ANDREW DALTON, Associated Press

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The Sabres were a fixable mess, but their owner is holding them back (Trending Topics)

BUFFALO, NY – JUNE 24: Terry Pegula of the Buffalo Sabres attends the 2016 NHL Draft on June 25, 2016 in Buffalo, New York. (Photo by Bruce Bennett/Getty Images)

It seems like it would be the best thing in the world, right? A guy takes over ownership of your team, and he basically says, “Hey, I’m not in this to make money. I’ve loved this team since I was a kid, and I’m already a billionaire. So I will love this team as much as I ever have, and the only difference will be my name is on the checks.”

So when Terry Pegula comes in as owner of the Buffalo Sabres in 2011, it was such a nice change of pace from the previous owner, who penny-pinched and generally oversaw a club that was pretty good — they finished with 100 points the season before Pegula bought the team — but about to decline.

And the first thing Pegula does? He takes the 196 points the Sabres earned from 2009-11 as proof that his brand new club is proof that they’re on the cusp of contendership and, in his opening presser, promises Stanley Cups. Plural. And I swear to god this is true and you can look it up: He said the first one would come in three years.

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We all know what happened next. So there went the three-year plan.

Not to re-litigate the sins of the past too much here, but it turns out Pegula’s idea to make his beloved boyhood team better — “Just spend money on literally whoever you want, even if it’s Ville Leino or Christian Ehrhoff” — doesn’t actually work in practice. Sports isn’t like regular business. You can’t throw millions of dollars at your problems to make them go away. The team fell apart almost immediately.

All that starts the rebuild in earnest, and while Pegula probably doesn’t like it, everyone except the biggest crybabies in the local and national media sees the logic behind the move: In today’s NHL, you basically have to rip it down to the studs if you want to build things back up again.

Only the Sabres, despite icing two of the worst teams in modern NHL history and finishing 30th both seasons, don’t win the draft lottery. In failing to do so, they miss out on Aaron Ekblad and Connor McDavid.

Here it must be pointed out that, when it came to tearing down the decaying husk of the old, pretty-good Sabres and rebuilding it anew, Murray did not do a particularly good job in the “rebuilding” part. It’s easy to trade every veteran you have on the roster for first- and second-round picks. And while that went on, Murray said all the right things, and clearly understood what he should be doing. The problem was obviously that he did not do what he should be doing.

Everyone knew the Sabres were going to take a step forward in Bylsma’s first year, and 81 points for a team that just finished with 54 isn’t bad. As a means of powering out of the tear-down phase, Murray added Ryan O’Reilly and Evander Kane to the mix up front — important for a team with an historically horrendous offense. He also brought in Robin Lehner in net, which addressed another huge hole the team dealt with.

In theory, a team with O’Reilly, Eichel, Kane, and Sam Reinhart — the consolation prize in the Ekblad sweepstakes — has a pretty good young forward group that’s going to score you some goals. It’s something you can build around fairly quickly. In theory. Adding Matt Moulson (who only played 11:36 a night this season)? That wasn’t gonna do it. Adding Kyle Okposo? That probably helps a lot going forward.

To be fair, Murray was also saddled with Regier’s horrendous history at the draft, so the cupboards were a little bare. This was a problem that really only required time to fix, but Murray didn’t acquit himself all that well at the draft table either.

The real problem was that in all the help the team added up front, Murray’s moves to address one of the worst blue lines in the league were baffling to say the least. For one thing, no, Rasmus Ristolainen actually isn’t as good as everyone in Buffalo makes him out to be. Honestly, he’s just not a difference-maker that helps you win games. And he was their best defenseman this past season by approximately one mile.

The Dmitry Kulikov trade was a disaster. He was terrible in his first year in Buffalo, and the Sabres gave up Mark Pysyk (who was decent enough in Florida), as well as a second- and third-round pick to acquire him. Another defenseman Murray actively acquired (in the Tyler Myers/Evander Kane trade) was Zach Bogosian, who’s horrible. Jake McCabe, bad. Cody Franson, perfectly fine but used in limited minutes and played only 68 games. Josh Gorges, one of the worst in the league. Justin Falk, a guy you might as well forget is even in the league.

That Bylsma couldn’t make a team go with this crew is not in any way surprising. That Eichel got sick of it in a hurry is not in any way surprising.

Murray had, in my estimation and apparently Pegula’s as well, not done enough to keep his job. A combination of mediocre-verging-on-bad and unlucky at the draft, the Buffalo pipeline isn’t exactly bursting with talent. And that D group is so ugly as to be actually embarrassing.

FILE – In this May 28, 2015, file photo, Buffalo Sabres GM Tim Murray, left, and newly hired coach Dan Bylsma hold a Sabres’ jersey as they pose for a photo after a news conference in Buffalo, N.Y. The Sabres have fired general manager Tim Murray and coach Dan Bylsma after the youthful team missed the playoffs for a sixth consecutive season. Owner Terry Pegula made the announcement Thursday, April 20, 2017. (AP Photo/Gary Wiepert, File)

But Bylsma? I say it every time a good coach gets fired: Who do you hire that’s better than the guy you canned? What is Bylsma, a top-six coach in the league? Top-eight? If you have him outside your top 10, you’re nuts. His replacement is likely to have at least an equally difficult time. assuming there is no major overhaul; Kulikov, Franson, Brian Gionta, No. 7 defender Taylor Fedun, and backup goalie Anders Nilsson are the only UFAs whose contracts run out this summer. Whoever replaces Murray has to let ’em all walk. After he adds a coach.

But here’s the problem: Who made the decision to fire the coach and GM? Pegula. Check the letterhead. Who’s going to hire the new GM, if not have a big say in the hiring of the coach? Pegula. If you don’t think so you’re deluding yourself.

And what happened the last time he brought in people to run his beloved club? He brought in a beloved former player who quit after four months, and a beloved former coach who had no idea what he was doing. So what prevents Pegula from doing the same thing this time? Rumors are already swirling about Chris Drury, currently in the Rangers front office, potentially being a candidate. On Thursday Greg also mentioned maybe bringing Lindy Ruff back to coach.

And why not? This kind of thinking — that former players for any given franchise can successfully guide them back to winning ways — is currently going great in Vancouver and Boston, right? Worked even better in Edmonton for a decade-plus.

The problem with owners who get involved in decision-making for their professional sports franchises is that very few of them got rich by owning a professional sports franchise. Pegula knows how the fracking business works, and he — like all obscenely wealthy people — figures that makes him some sort of expert on just about any topic. Because hey, when you have $3 billion in the bank, no one’s gonna tell you no about anything. “Yes Mr. Pegula, good point,” is the most ardent disagreement the rich encounter.

One supposes that if you own a team no one gets to tell you how to run it, but rich people don’t have brains that allow them to see things in the way a normal human being would, no matter how much they’d like to think otherwise. Pegula may see himself as a fan first, but he’s making franchise-changing decisions based on one year’s won-lost record, and (probably) the say-so of a 20-year-old. It’s only going to lead to trouble.

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A natural gas tycoon owning the team and deciding to fire an elite coach and so-so GM after one injury-riddled, bad-luck season — the Sabres shot 6.4 percent at 5-on-5, and 8 percent overall, both in the last-six in the league — in which the D corps was never going to allow it to be competitive anyway? Alright, explain to me how that’s any different from letting lucky Caller No. 7 to the WGR morning show make that decision.

They both, ultimately, have the same qualification when it comes to understanding this sport on any sort of deeper level.

They’ve loved the team since they were kids. And that’s it.

Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

All stats via Corsica unless otherwise stated.

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