"Marling plays Rhoda, a brilliant young woman, recently accepted to MIT’s astrophysics program, who kills someone’s family in a drunk-driving accident. Crippled by guilt, she dreams of escape to the second planet earth that has been discovered, on which has been discovered exact replicas of every single person here on earth. An unabashedly cerebral film which takes on some chewy subjects — guilt, atonement, absolution — it nevertheless casts an undeniable spell, not least in the consonance it establishes between that second earth hanging there in the sky like a vast pale moon, and the yearning in Marling’s beautiful, upturned face." — from my interview with Brit Marling for The Independent
Jul 31, 2011
2. Boy (RAC mix) - Ra Ra Riot3. A Real Hero (featuring Electric Youth) - Youth4. Fantasy (featuring Ruckazoid) - Breakbot5. Stay Close (RAC mix)- Delorean6. Deer In The Headlights - Owl City7. Wait and See - Holy Ghost8. Amor Fati - Washed Out9. Civilization - Justice10. Pumped Up Kicks - Foster the People
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 26, 2011
'Ever since his wife died, the novelist Francisco Goldman hasn’t been had the heart to tell their local fishmonger in Brooklyn. He dreads the inevitable questions: where’s Aura? How’s Aura? He has been unable to return to the restaurant they used to frequent, where she was adored by all the Mexican waiters, who used to crowd around her table. “I know they’ve seen me walk by,” he says. “They must think: Oh she left him.” At their local Laundromat, where the absence of female clothes in the wash has been noted, he outright lies. “I would say she’s in Mexico or whatever,” he says. “You don’t want to say she’s dead. You don’t want to have that conversation in a Laundromat.”
It is a warm summer’s day – not too humid for New York— and we are sitting outside Café Tabac, just around the corner from where Goldman lives in Brooklyn. Of Guatemalan-American descent, he goes by the name of “Frank” or “Paco” to his friends. A boyish 57-year-old with a soft, slightly worried manner, Goldman, orders a salmon burger “because it’s salmon, and not really a burger,” and then laughs at his own attempts to out-maneuvre the Calorie God.Recently, he read Lydia Davis translation of Swann’s Way and found a sentence that stopped him short: “One thing love and death have in common, more than those vague resemblances people are always talking about, is that they make us question more deeply, for fear that its reality will slip away from us, the mystery of personality.”
He quotes it perfectly from memory. “That’s beautiful. Because the fundamental question in death is: who was that person? Where did that person go? Who was that? And in love it is the same: why does this one person out of all the millions on the planet suddenly to merge with me so I effectively want to be her all the time? Why does this one person so enthrall me? What is it? What was that? Who was that? That’s sort of a twin dance between death and life, the way you pursue it that way.”
“I made something. Out of this disaster, I made something. It might be a very puny thing. It’s just a book. But at least its a book that carries the spark of life. It carries the spark of Aura. She’s there. It’s her.”'
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 21, 2011
Jul 19, 2011
"During post-production on The Terminator, James Cameron and Gale Ann Hurd started dating. According to Cameron: “We’d gone from spending 24 hours a day together making a movie to spending 24 hours a day together because we wanted to.” During week-days they would leave home and race to the office down the freeway — he in his Corvette, she in her Porsche, both bought with Terminator money — the perfect eighties uber-couple, caught in the slipstream of their own success. The weekends were more romantic. “We went off-road on a four wheel drive, took the hot-air balloon out, and a huge wind came up, and we ended up crash landing” said Hurd. “We went horseback- riding, ice-skating, we shot AK 47s out in the desert, and that was just one weekend.”
“The women that he’s been associated with in his personal life have been very strong characters,” says Scott Ross, a friend of the director and co-founder of their effects house, Digital Domain. “He’s like a moth to a light. He’s attracted to these strong burning women but when he gets there he can’t deal with it. And he will always win. Its almost like he needs this ongoing angst in his life between himself and a woman. I think its an issue between him and his mother. His mother is very intimidating and incredibly intelligent and his father is quiet and stands in the background but his mother clearly seems to wear the pants in the family, and I think that’s made a big impact on his work.” In fact, not since the hey-day of Hawks, would a body of films so ostensibly bent on singing the praises of arms and the man, prove so hospitable to the sight of women packing heat. Cameron’s machismo, like Hawks’, is unisex.
All of his friends tried to talk him out of doing Aliens. They thought it a losing proposition; if it was good it would be because Ridley Scott had made such a good film; if it was bad it would be his fault. “Yeah, but I really like it,” he would reply. “I think it’ll be cool. Can’t I just do it?” His script unfurled from a single, simple question that had nagged at Cameron throughout Scott’s original film: where had the alien eggs come from? “They’ve seen the eggs, they’ve seen the parasite that emerges from the eggs, they’ve seen the embryo laid by the parasite emerge from a host person, and they’ve seen the embryo grow up into a supposedly adult form. But the adult form — one of them anyway — couldn’t possibly have laid the thousand or so eggs that filled the inside of the derelict ship.” In the first film there had been a scene which showed the alien cocooning the captain, Dallas, and Harry Dean Stanton, in order to turn them into eggs, but it had ended up on the cutting room floor. “In my story,” said Cameron, “the eggs come from somewhere else. At least that was my theory. So working from that theory — acres and acres of these quite large eggs, two-and-a-half to three-feet tall — I began to focus on the idea of a hierarchical hive structure where the central figure is a giant queen whose role it is to further the species...”
Cameron wrote through the Christmas of 1984, before finally delivering his first draft in January of 85. “If you think of the first Alien movie as a fun house, Aliens is a roller coaster ride” he told producers Walter Hill and David Giler. 20th-century Fox, however, refused to believe that the film could be done for $15.5 million, as Gale Ann Hurd said it could; a budget estimator at Fox put it at nearer $35 million, and refused to finance the film. Cameron and Hurd both quit.
“We walked out and said ‘thanks we’ll do something else,” said Cameron. Fox’s bluff was called and by March, the project was back on track again, only to hit another problem in the form of the film’s star, Sigourney Weaver. Cameron had written the whole thing around Weaver’s character without contacting the actress, so phoned her up to talk her into it. She was in France at the time, shooting Une femme ou deux, and at first she was a little nonplussed, thinking: I can’t believe why no one even mentioned it to me. “I didn’t really want to do a sequel, I was pretty sceptical of what I thought was an attempt to cash in on the success of the original.... I thought why do something that has already been done?” She and producer David Giler had joked about it, on and off, for years. “Well if we ever do the sequel and you co-operate, you can be in the picture,” Giler told her on one occasion. “If you don’t then your hyper-sleep capsule lid and you will dissolve into dust.”
She was suspicious that Cameron was doing it just to cash in, but the director pointed the seven year gap since the first film: didn’t that indicate the film was being done for love not money? He told her that the story was focused dead-centre on Ripley, and that he couldn't do the film without her participation. Weaver thought it showed “a loyalty that is quite unusual in this business” and agreed, but having got only $35,000 for first movie, upped her pay check to a million. Fox put their foot down and told Cameron and Hurd: do it without her. “It was the amount Sigourney was asking,” says Hurd. “They were considering writing a sequel that didn't include her, and Jim and I couldn’t imagine what that movie would be. It all happened over a rather short period of time. We couldn’t simply rewrite the script for someone else. It’s not that easy, when the entire theme of the movie is all about facing your deepest fears, how do you do that when no-one else survives?”
When things reached deadlock, Hurd and Cameron quit for a second time — “We thought it was a dead issue at that point,” said Hurd, “We thought the movie was off” — and flew to Hawaii in April, for their honeymoon, which turned out to be as romantic as their dates. “We spent half of our honeymoon making calls to England and LA to set up the Aliens deal,” said Cameron. “Jim had to do this logical, cost-benefit analysis of why getting married would be a good idea,” reported back Hurd. “We came out in the black.”
When they returned in May, Aliens was on again, with Weaver onboard, a budget of $18 million, and a start date of September at Shepperton studios in London, and a decommissioned electrical engineering station in Acton. Alien had been a hot, groggy shoot, taking is cue from the suppressed tension that hovered around Ridley Scott, but Aliens was shot during a dark, freezing British winter, warmed only by the blaze of Cameron’s temper. It was the by-now characteristic firework display, with the director firing first actor James Remar, who played Hicks, and then cinematographer, Dick Bush. An old Shepperton stalwart, Bush was old school: the director would shoot things the way he decided to light them, and he lit up the dark cavernous aliens’ lair just a few amps short of a car-sales room. Cameron was not happy.
“This is Jim's movie, Jim’s vision,” protested Hurd, thinking: oh no, this is not going to work.
”Well if that's the case,” replied Bush, “and I can’t do my job which is to light it the way I want it, you'd better find someone else”
Giler told Hurd, “You've got to fire him” and so they brought in a replacement, Adrian Biddle. It was beginning of long and gruelling war of attrition between the American producers and the largely British crew, who were all fond of Ridley Scott, and suspicious of this young American hotshot couple flying in to make a sequel to their beloved movie. They nick-named Cameron “grizzly Adams” and were openly contemptuous of Hurd, this dainty woman stepping across the power cables in her immaculate shoes. “It was very upfront, their discomfort with women,” says Hurd. “People would come in and sit down and would say ‘who is really producing this film?’ and I would say ‘I am really producing this film,’ and they would laugh and say ‘no, no, no, you’re the director’s wife, lovely to meet you but who will I really be reporting to?’ and I would say ‘actually me’.
“Well if that’s the truth, I want to be completely upfront with you, I won’t take orders from a woman” said one, according to Hurd. “’Well you clearly won’t be working on this film.’ I thought it might be an isolated occurrence, but it happened quite a few times.”
Things finally reached a head over the endless breaks that the crew insisted on taking — for tea, to go to the pub for lunch, for lottery raffles. “It was Union regulated, whether you wanted it or not,” said Giler. “If you murdered the tea lady, there’d be someone there the next day at the same time.” When one crew-member took the opportunity to go around giving out tickets for a raffle, Cameron finally exploded. “No man, we’re working here. Fuck the draw! There's a last shot we've got to get” He destroyed the tea-trolley — mashed it into a cube — and called in the entire crew and told them, “If you guys don't shape up, we’re going to go someplace else, we’ll fire the whole crew.”
“They were having a party,” said Hendrikson, “and Jim was at war to finish this movie.” It was a gruelling shoot for Weaver — freezing cold in a t-shirt for most of it, weighed down with her co-star, Carrie Anne Moss, whom she had to carry in many scenes, and further loaded down with guns and ammo when she was a staunch opponent of firearms. She would stand there in daily handgun practise, loaded up to here eyeballs with ammunition, thinking, ‘here I am a member of the gun control lobby in a picture where I do nothing but shoot guns....’ When she first read the script, she’d done the usual thing and sniffed out her dialogue, skipping the stage directions — never a wise move with a Cameron script, which bristles with all the usual chunky toys, like a one-movie answer to the arms-race: “She checks her weapon. Attaches a BANDOLIER OF GRENADES to her harness. Primes the flame-thrower. Checks the rifle’s magazine. Racks the bolt, chambering the first round. She checks the marking flares in the high pocket of her jump pants. She drops an unprimed grenade...”
“Part of the attraction of doing the film was that it was a design fest, an opportunity to do all sorts of wonderful hardware,” said Cameron, “I like hardware a lot.” He and production designer Peter Lamont lined his sets with the dismantled parts of old 747s, Canberra and Vulcan bombers, just being phased out of the Royal Airforce. “I invented a Pulse gun by combining a Thompson submachine gun with a Franchi SPAS 12 pump action shot gun, and there’s a smart gun, based on the Spandau MG42 with thermal imagery sights. And our artillery and aircraft are so advanced that we had to have help from the Aerospace industries, they were just terrific.” He liked hardware a lot.
“I knew we were playing into something trendy with Aliens,” said Weaver, “the Rambo commando complex where the hero single-handedly mows down his opponents. If I see my role as a Chinese warrior, or as Henry V, then I’m interested in it. It’s a chance to do a classic part. If I see it as gunplay, I’m not interested. The use of weapons is always the least important aspect to me, even if its the most effective with the audience. I tried to see Rambo but I couldn’t sit through it. I think I underestimated the degree to which Cameron would pay so much attention to guns.” Still, he was suitably deferential to his star, who had as great a claim on being the auteur of the Alien movies as anyone. “I was the throttle, she was the brakes” said Cameron, who duly made note of every one of her detailed queries about the character of Ripley.
“Her script must have had 5,000 notations in it,” says Hurd. “It was all about ‘Ripley would not do this, she is working on a loading dock, she would be making every decision from a functional point of view, working on a loading dock you are not going to have long hair that gets caught...’ every intonation, every line, every motion came from a deep character place.” In particular, Weaver found the idea of a character waking from a 57-year sleep fascinating. She believed that Ripley’s mind didn’t stop working in that period — that she hadn’t skipped those years, but had racked them up internally, in hyper-sleep. “Ripley isn’t the eager young ensign anymore. Her own daughter has grown old and died before the film even begins,” she said. “In Aliens she got to go back and fight the monsters because she has no choice. Nothing is left for her here.”'
"Kevin Costner is in negotiations to join a cast that is headed by Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, Samuel L. Jackson and Leonardo DiCaprio. Costner is in talks to play Ace Woody, and it's a real surprise turn for an actor most associated with good guy roles. He's the sadistic trainer of the male fighting slaves who entertain the white patrons of Candyland as well as the female slaves who are forced to be prostitutes." — Deadline Hollywood
1. Bull Durham2. No Way Out3. Mr Brooks4. Silverado5. The Untouchables
Jul 18, 2011
"Despite the wealth, power, and magnitude of his media empire, Murdoch has no Lear depths and mind-tattered poetry; he's a colorless king, mean and un-self-reflecting, his own chasms hidden from him." — James Wolcott, Vanity Fair
Jul 16, 2011
"The funniest thing about movies is that . They don't like austerity. All the things — you'll see — the things that you're a little embarrassed about, the show-off things, those are . It's one of the most interesting things about movies. It's that they like showing off. It's life, it's vitality. Austerity and classicism just lie there." — Mike Nichols to Steven Soderbergh
Jul 10, 2011
"Deathly Hallows: Part 2, can instantly be counted as one of the finest closing chapters to a franchise in movie history. "— Matt Mueller"The Potter saga could hardly have ended on a better note. With one miraculous flourish of its wand, the franchise has restored the essential magic to the Potter legend. There are some superb set-piece scenes - and now the plot has so much more zing ... this is such an entertaining, beguiling, charming and exciting picture. It reminded me of the thrill I felt on seeing the very first one, 10 years ago." – Peter Bradshaw
"[It's] awash with gorgeous tones, and carrying an ultimate message that will resonate with every viewer, young or old: there is darkness in all of us, but we can overcome it." —Philip Womack
Why am I not convinced by these glowing reviews? Could it be, possibly, because not one of them makes so much as featherlight allusion to the fact that every single Harry Potter movie up to this point has been a $200-million turd? Yes, that's it. I'm sure there must have been an exception somewhere along the line — the one with the dragon fight? Where Robert Pattinson copped it? — but on the whole: turds. How liberating it is to say that. I remember only too well the compulsory kindness meted out to British movies — or any British movie that looked within spitting distance of turning a profit — among those unlucky enough to review movies for a London broadsheet. It was practically stamped into your passport. How luck I am to live in the land of the free.
Jul 9, 2011
1. The Belle Brigade -— The Belle Brigade2. Helplessness Blues — Fleet Foxes3. Follow Me Down — Sarah Jarosz4. So Beautiful Or What — Paul Simon5. The Errant Charm — Vetiver6. 21 — Adele7. Bon Iver — Bon Iver8. Gilgamesh — Gypsy & The Cat9. Lights — Ellie Goulding10. Early In The Morning — James Vincent Morrow
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 7, 2011
"The film clearly wasn't connecting. That's because of one thing and only thing only. It's ." — Jeff Wells
Jul 6, 2011
"Appearing to resent" and "peevish" are too mild, actually--many of the instant commentators on cable were visibly, audibly angry at the AUDACITY these acquittals. (Once exception: Judge Andrew Napolitano on Fox News, who was calm and sensible.)... What little I saw of the coverage was disgusting and sob-sister, this endless fetishizing of "little Caylee," as if these well-dressed, high-paid lawyers and media mouths had adopted her as their own little angel, and minutes after the verdict came down there was Judge Jeanine Pirro wailing, Where is the justice for this little girl? ("Justice for Caylee" was the sidebar subhead on Grace's Headline News coverage, as if it were a personal crusade.)" — James Wolcott
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 4, 2011
"To the post-war generation, things were much simpler. If someone asked them what a blockbuster was they simply pointed to Gone with The Wind — the very definition of a blockbuster, if only because for several decades it was the only one they had. Occupying an unparalleled hold on the number one spot from 1939 to 1972 — almost forty years — Gone With the Wind was the Hoover of blockbuster movies, both brand leader and one-movie monopoly, sucking up the competition on all sides. “The business of Gone with the Wind was not just steady, it was an economy unto itself”, writes David Thomson in his biography of producer David Selznick. Selznick had ambitions for Gone With The Wind from the word go: he used the casting call to find his Scarlett O’ Hara as a nationwide publicity gimmick; and once he had secured his participants, everyone in the production — Selznick, director Victor Fleming, Vivienne Leigh, Clark Gable — took up their positions for what amounted to a four-way group snarling session that lasted almost a year. “It was a case of utter chaos. They burned themselves, and out of the ashes rose this Phoenix of a picture” said Marcella Rabwin, Selznick’s assistant at RKO. “I have never know so much hatred. The whole atmosphere was so acrid. Leigh hated Fleming, with a passion. Fleming hated her. He called her the vilest names. Clark Gable hated David.” As the picture neared completion, Selznick knew what he had on his hands and wrote to Metro’s head of marketing, invoking D W Griffith’s Birth of a Nation, and saying, “the picture is turning out so brilliantly that its handling will have to be on scale and of a type never before tried in the picture business.”
By far the most interesting thing about Gone With The Wind, though, at least to today’s eyes, is what happened after its release, which is to say: precisely nothing. Nobody started manufacturing Rhett Butler dolls. Nobody tried to copy it, or make it happen again; it didn’t spawn a sequel, let alone an entire industry. Selznick tried to follow it up with Duel In The Sun, a film for which he pioneered an interesting new trick of opening the film wide — as wide as he could, in 38 cinemas. “If the public’s ‘want to see’ for a forthcoming picture samples higher than the reaction of test audience’s,” noted one critic, “you sell your picture in a hurry before the curious have a chance to get wise.” But the tactic — which would turn out to be one of the mainstay’s of today’s blockbuster industry — failed, along with the picture. It was back to Gone With the Wind whose reign at the top was further boosted by reissues in 1949, 1954 and 1961. The American people had spoken: they had their blockbuster, and occasionally they would take it out of its display case to have another look at it, but then they would pop it back again, with a satisfied sigh. The first serious competition it faced came from Cecil B De Mille’s remake of his own film, The Ten Commandments, in 1956, which took up a close second position; while the arrival of Ben Hur in 1959 made it a three-chariot race, and from 1960 to 1965 those three films took up a neat triangular stranglehold at the top of the box-office charts, until Julie Andrews vaulted up the mountainside and joined them in 1966 with The Sound of Music. Box-office statisticians, you can’t help but feel, had an easy life back then. Sat atop the pyramid, their feet up, occasionally glancing down to see what dim jockeying they could see down below, but basically filing the same report, every year, like the BBC’s royal reporters: yep, still there."
— excerpted from my book Blockbuster: How Hollywood Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Summer
"In the same way that William James applies the tensile force of his logical prose toward the evocation of an imperceptible bridge beyond logic that must, somehow, be there, Malick has continued to muster the resources of film toward embodying what cannot actually be embodied. He wants to make film do what it is least able to do. Not content with showing how the world looks, he wants to show how it is experienced from the inside, even if that inside story can only be suggested through the cunning deployment of "this very thing”: this door closing, this muttered banality, this drowned body floating in a swimming pool, this wounded dinosaur, this erupting volcano, this suburban backyard, this face averted to avoid looking at another face." — Geoffrey O'Brien, NYRB