A Peter Morgan-written Bond series for Netflix, filmed on location at this production level; an MI6 show built around Judi Dench's M and Ralph Fiennes at Whitehall hearings
One host would watch a Bond Netflix show if Peter Morgan made it, but only filmed on location at this production level, which no Netflix show including The Crown reaches; a self-described spy head would love an MI6 show centered on a reckless alcoholic; another says Bond going to Netflix is how we know movies are dead.
A spinoff around Judi Dench's M, with Ralph Fiennes, Whitehall hearings and backroom deals, plus an extended set piece every other episode, appeals to some, with M's line about running out of drink an A plus moment; the dissenter is a barker outside a marquee for the movies.
Sean Connery was in discussions to play Kincaid before the producers decided the stunt casting would take people out of the movie, which the hosts agree was right; Kevin Spacey was originally approached for Mallory, Mendes having directed him in American Beauty.
Ralph Fiennes as Mallory is loved: in a sedate movie where everyone operates at a mild level he chews the scenery in every scene, and he has gone on to be M.
Connery would have been distracting, nobody wants five seconds of fading Connery, who has not been seen in public for a few years, and it would have been the Marvel interconnecting universe, which Bond movies are not.
A behind-the-scenes what-if: release the Peter Morgan cut, though a Morgan disciple sees plenty of his DNA in the finished film; the making-ofs describe a collaborative effort rather than a writer's version being ruined.
The mustaches, all real and magnificent: an hour and a half in, one host wonders why nobody wears hats and mustaches now and says producer Craig should have one right now; another cannot grow one, Kurt Russell can grow incredible facial hair, and a Christmas challenge is set to grow a Tombstone mustache or goatee for the fans.
Powers Booth and Val Kilmer actually have a soul patch with a mustache rather than goatees; the challenged host is in, even though a mustache makes him look like a dirtbag cop from 1974, which is when the challenger feels most like his friend, like being friends with Gene Hackman.
The crazy loaded cast, already discussed, and Dana Delaney, whose good career felt like it could have been better; a China Beach fan likens her to Carla Gugino, first said as 'Carlo Gugino' and mocked as a Fellini actor and the Godfather toll-booth gunman, as a why-aren't-you-a-bigger-star actress, asking why Demi Moore was so much bigger.
Delaney had a bigger career than Gugino, whom everyone loves, but should have been an A list star; this was the one time a big movie made her the female lead, Exit to Eden being the joke about where it went wrong, and she remains one host's second-favorite actress in the film.
The 1880s Wild Wild West world-building: liquor, brothels, gambling, hats and mustaches; the Godfather tone Russell talked about shows in Wyatt moving in, taking over the faro game (transcribed 'Pharaoh') at the Oriental and winning the deeds to mines, a man who stands for law and order screwing people out of things because fame left the Earps with nothing to show for it.
The film is called the bridge from John Ford Westerns to Deadwood, one of the first Westerns full of people cursing each other out and then shooting somebody in the head; the blood in the Bill Paxton scene and Sam Elliott being told he will never use his arm again were new and intense for a Western.
The closing credits, four solid minutes of the cast walking in their outfits for no reason like a Vanity Fair photo shoot, are unintentionally funny but cool, compared to a Countdown segment one host once shot with Jalen.
That era of Val Kilmer, all the way through Heat, is savored like old Fab Five tapes from Michigan: it did not totally work out, but if you could bottle this there was something special, and he really should have been a bigger star.
Why the film is special: you can watch the other actors recognize what Kilmer is doing and change their performances to elevate his, making themselves more buttoned-down and austere, solid American oak, while he is free jazz, a coughing, sweating, feverish, green Byron or Shelley figure; the Kansas Earps versus Georgia Doc contrast is credited, with colleague Amanda Dobbins invoked as the poetic Georgian, and tuberculosis explaining the rest.
Kurt Russell's Wyatt is looking for a wife who gets him and stokes his soul, but the real partner is Holliday, from the first 'how the hell are you' line; the friendship is the love story at the center of the movie, an amazing portrayal of it.
Revisiting the 1993 Best Supporting Actor field (Tommy Lee Jones, DiCaprio, Ralph Fiennes, Malkovich, Pete Postlewaite), it is amazing Kilmer was not nominated, though the category was stacked; Malkovich is good in In the Line of Fire but not as memorable, and with the wished-for five-year Oscar delay Kilmer gets nominated.
The film was a modest hit that took on a new life: one host is not sure he saw it in theaters despite seeing everything then, another definitely did over Christmas break when movies were the only thing to do, and another watched it maybe 25 times in a friend's basement because it was always on TV.
The tuberculosis vaccine has aged best, in the sense that the film shows how much having tuberculosis sucked: Doc turns green, coughs blood, is insulted as a 'lunger' by everyone, and keeps smoking and drinking whiskey around the clock until the doctor orders no more whiskey, cigarettes, sex or gambling.
Joanna Pacula, whose name nobody can pronounce, is the last pick: she was around for a while as a why-not-bigger actress and then just never made it, her credits being Marked for Death (transcribed 'Mark for Death') with Steven Seagal, Tombstone and My Giant; while her credits are looked up, Kilmer's 'I have not even begun to defile myself' is performed, his accent likened to Yosemite Sam reading Oscar Wilde, ridiculous but perfect.
Asked again later, Billy Bob Thornton is one host's answer; another sticks with the mustaches.
Luke and Owen Wilson were originally slated to play the Malloy brothers, eventually played by Scott Kahn (as transcribed) and Casey Affleck; they could not do the movie because they had to shoot Tenenbaums, and two of the hosts spent ten minutes on this the day before.
The Wilsons would have been an infusion of Bottle Rocket, but more twee, with more emphasis on the pitter patter of their speech; they also had bigger profiles in 2001 than Kahn and Affleck and might have taken shine from the top three, like needing an Iguodala and a David West on the roster.
Owen can play dumb better than Luke; the Mormon twins' gags are supposed to be stupid so you laugh at and with them, and the Wilsons might have made it too pretentious or arch; this is the only what-if one host would have been okay with, since the brothers are comic relief, and the hosts are glad Tenenbaums got made.
Joel and Ethan Coen were reportedly also up for the Malloy brothers; one host wants documentation because the Coens in front of the camera seems implausible, while another likes it given the stories of them living with Holly Hunter and Frances McDormand after college, but agrees it is too inside-joke.
Ralph Fiennes, whom one host presumed was up for Basher on the strength of In Bruges, was actually one of three possible Terry Benedicts; he has done villains, including he who shall not be named; as Benedict it would scramble the allegiances because it is too close to English Patient and you might want Julia to be with Ray Files (as transcribed), when you need to be on Danny's side.
Alan Arkin was originally going to play Saul, the role played by Carl Reiner, which would have been fine; Mike Myers was attached to the cast; one of the earliest articles about Brad Pitt circling the film, a 2000 Hollywood Reporter Variety piece, has Johnny Depp playing Linus.
One host is against Depp, enjoying him only in What's Eating Over Grape (as transcribed) and finding the rest overacting; another was a fan in 2000, before Willy Wonka and Pirates of the Caribbean, but not at the right frequency for this movie: a darkness, the same handsome vibe as Pitt, and impossible to picture in glasses, a baseball hat and a parka in Chicago getting dunked on, since he never wants to blend in and would want to be bald with a snaggle tooth.
Mark Wahlberg was also attached to play Linus and had a weird reaction after the fact; a question to Amanda about the Julia Roberts role turns up no other what-ifs.
Bruce Willis was reportedly, on specious evidence, in contention for Danny Ocean, which would be an entirely different movie because Clooney anchors the whole thing; his absence set up a favorite Ocean's 12 cameo, where he arrives mid-heist while Julia Roberts' Tess is pretending to be Julia Roberts, with a SpongeBob pillow, as commentary on 2000s celebrity; the hosts are glad he turned the role down, and Ocean's 12 made one like Julia Roberts even more.
Earlier, in the intro: Mark Wahlberg, initially slated to play Linus, was salty after release, saying he went off and made Planet of the Apes and The Truth About Charlie, which both sucked, rather than sit around patting George on the back.
