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Last updateTue, 18 Sep 2018 1pm

The annual Palm Springs International Film Festival’s Awards Gala provides a cadre of A-list film actors and directors with oddly titled awards for their trophy cases—along with a low-stress, fun night in Palm Springs, the “home away from L.A.” for many celebrities.

This year’s honorees at the Saturday, Jan. 2, gala at the Palm Springs Convention Center included Steve Carell, Christian Bale, Matt Damon, Johnny Depp, Bryan Cranston, Michael Fassbender, Cate Blanchett, Brie Larson, Saoirse Ronan, Alicia Vikander, Rooney Mara and Tom McCarthy.

The 11-day festival proudly presents a broad gamut of films within nearly every genre, produced both here and abroad; some of these films receive little or no viewership in the commercial marketplace otherwise. In contrast, the celebrity cast of honorees and presenters—Michael Keaton, Helen Mirren, Kate Winslet and Ridley Scott were among the latter this year—as usual included a host of attention-grabbing nominees for the rapidly approaching major award season in Los Angeles. This proven strategy creates fund-raising fodder for the mix of industry players and local philanthropists who pay to get inside the Convention Center event. This year, more than $2 million was raised to support the year-round community service and film appreciation activities of the Palm Springs International Film Society, organizers said.

However, for me, the night proved to be a bust. While larger national media sources received prime space on the red carpet, the stars—most of whom were accompanied by a phalanx of PR representatives—were quickly whisked past those of us at the very end of the carpet where media outlets not offering national outreach were banished. (As for photos … the Independent was denied a photo credential, period … hence the mediocre smart-phone pics below.)

Special recognition was earned by Mr. Depp, who took time to amble at a leisurely pace, offering smiles and a couple of mumbled responses to urgently proffered inquiries.

In summation, I offer, for your enjoyment, a few freeze-frame stills and a brief video I shot to prove that I did, in fact, cover the event.

Enjoy. 

Published in Snapshot

Adam Sandler’s latest film has a fairly interesting premise and gets off to an OK start—but it quickly becomes awkward (even gross) and eventually degenerates into a stupid, predictable thriller.

Sandler plays Max, a cobbler in a New York shop once owned by his dad. After his electric stitching machine goes kaput, he uses an old manual one in the basement to fix some shoes. He tries them on—and instantly becomes the person who owns the shoes (played by Method Man). He figures this out, and begins using shoes to become other people, including, most disgustingly, his long-lost father (Dustin Hoffman) for a date with his mother. (Ew!!!) The plot then goes crazy, as Method Man’s character proves to be a street thug, and Max schemes to steal his money so he can buy a tombstone for a family member.

Director Tom McCarthy (The Station Agent) is all over the map, attempting too many genres and subplots for a single movie. Sandler just can’t make a decent film these days.

The Cobbler is available on demand and via online sources including iTunes and Amazon.com. 

Published in DVDs/Home Viewing