Category: Art/Culture/Movies

A few photos from a newish $500/night Marriott hotel in Newport Beach, California:

Note the circular waterfall in the middle of the driveway.

One of the more interesting features is a massive video screen above the bar at the end of the pool:

Why can’t we have this in every room of our houses?

The hotel is built around an open central courtyard and, thus, the corridors are exposed to the elements to some extent. Perhaps because of this, the architects and designers apparently decided not to put any art in the outdoor hallways:

The result is a bleak depressing walk from a fairly nice room to the very nice lobby. It makes the hotel seem cheap and old. I’m trying to figure out how they could have failed so badly. The indoor/outdoor structure isn’t that different from Spanish colonial architecture throughout Central and South America. A hotel with exterior corridors in Mexico or South America would have interesting stonework and, most likely, beautiful tiles and other decoration in the parts exposed to the elements.

On the bright side, we were able to enjoy looking at a Z06 C8 Corvette parked in front:

I enjoyed the special effects in the Dune 2021 movie, but the plot seemed overly serious and challenging to follow. For the strike-delayed second part, I’m hoping that Godzilla will join the mix. Who agrees with me that Godzilla v. a sandworm would spice things up?

(Side note: I would be willing to pay 15 Bidies to see the Barbie movie if Godzilla were included.)

Here’s an April 2023 effort by DALL-E to illustrate the concept:

For reference, a photograph of the real Godzilla:

What about the plot? Is my lack of imagination an obstacle to a successful career as a screenwriter? GPT-4 to the rescue! The prompt:

Write a story in the style of the novel Dune in which Godzilla arrives on Arrakis and fights the sandworms.

The script (note that ChatGPT was smart enough to realize that Godzilla must win at the end of the movie):

In the vast expanse of the desert planet Arrakis, where the great sandworms roamed, a new force would soon join the eternal dance of predator and prey. The Fremen, people of the desert, had long revered the sandworms, creatures that were essential to the production of the most precious substance in the universe: the spice melange. But as whispers spread among the sietches, they could hardly imagine what was about to happen on their sacred home.

As the suns set over the horizon, their path illuminated by the dust and sand of the desert, a storm approached. Fremen gathered in the caves and shelters, readying themselves for the fury of the winds. The sandworms, though, reveled in the chaos, emerging from the depths to feel the storm’s might.

Amidst the swirling sands, a great roar echoed, carried by the gales. It was a sound unlike any the Fremen had ever heard, a resonance that shook the very core of their being. The sandworms, too, sensed this new presence, and for the first time in their long history, they felt unease.

From within the storm, a titanic figure emerged: Godzilla. The King of the Monsters had found his way to Arrakis, and with each thunderous step, the desert trembled. Though not one to shy away from conflict, Godzilla’s primal instincts urged him to survey this new land.

As the storm settled, the Fremen cautiously emerged from their shelters. They spoke of the great beast that had appeared, their eyes wide with awe and fear. Muad’Dib, their leader and messiah, listened to their accounts and pondered the significance of this event.

Meanwhile, Godzilla continued to roam the desert, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. The sandworms, feeling the tremors of his steps, were drawn to the surface in search of the source. The air was thick with tension as these ancient creatures neared the mighty behemoth.

When the first sandworm burst forth from the sands, its colossal maw gaping wide, Godzilla turned to face it. His primal instincts ignited, and the beast within him awakened. As the sandworm lunged, Godzilla let loose a torrent of atomic breath, engulfing the creature in a searing inferno.

The Fremen, observing from afar, gasped in astonishment. They had never before witnessed a being capable of felling a sandworm so effortlessly. Muad’Dib, his mind racing with the implications, knew that this force had the potential to change the course of their history.

One by one, the sandworms emerged to challenge the intruder, and one by one, they fell to Godzilla’s might. The Fremen watched as their world was transformed, their reverence for the sandworms now tinged with uncertainty.

But even in the midst of this titanic struggle, the desert had more secrets to reveal. From deep beneath the sands, a new presence stirred. It was the Maker of the Makers, the worm that had birthed all other sandworms. It was ancient and powerful, and it sensed the threat Godzilla posed to its progeny.

As the behemoth and the Maker of the Makers clashed, the sands of Arrakis were sundered. The Fremen could only look on as the two titans battled for supremacy, each vying to prove their place atop the hierarchy of the desert.

The battle raged for days, their roars echoing across the dunes like thunder. The sands ran red with the blood of the combatants, and the very air seemed to tremble with the force of their strikes.

Eventually, the impossible happened. The Maker of the Makers, weakened and battered, fell before Godzilla.

What’s going on with various unions in Hollywood being forced to strike? Roughly 99.7% of Hollywood executives are Democrats (source). Why won’t committed Democrats pay workers a fair wage?

While it is sad that the Netflix Cleopatra (3% audience score) spinoffs might be delayed by the refusal of Democrats to pay their workers properly, the public can still watch Sorcerer, the recently deceased director William Friedkin’s favorite among his movies (French Connection and Exorcist are the best known).

From Friedkin’s obituary in the NYT, a Ukraine connection and also one to the 2SLGBTQQIA+ community:

William Friedkin, known to his friends as Billy, was born in Chicago on Aug. 25, 1935, to Louis and Rachel (Green) Friedkin. Both parents were Jews who had left Ukraine early in the century with their families to escape the tsarist pogroms. His mother, who was known as Rae, was an operating room nurse; his father worked a variety of low-paying jobs.

“The French Connection” was rejected by every studio in town before Richard Zanuck, in his final days at 20th Century Fox, gave it the green light. Convinced that the film required a street-level documentary feel, Mr. Friedkin spent weeks on the beat with the two police officers who had broken the French Connection drug case. He said he paid an official at the New York Transit Authority a $40,000 bribe to overlook the rules and allow the famous chase sequence to be filmed.

He later called “Sorcerer,” in an interview with Indiewire in 2017, “the only film I’ve made that I can still watch.”

The lurid “Cruising” (1980), with Al Pacino as a New York City detective who goes undercover in the city’s gay S-and-M bars to solve a murder, aroused the fierce opposition of gay activists, who objected to the film’s portrayal of gay men and who picketed the location shoots, much to Mr. Friedkin’s dismay.

Another great movie from this guy: To Live and Die in L.A. (you wouldn’t have wanted to be hoping to get anywhere near where they filmed the car chase on the day(s) of filming!)

Trigger warnings: the employer of the main characters in Sorcerer does not comply with OSHA regulations; seat belts are not always worn; the roads and bridges that they traverse were not approved by Pete Buttigieg.