I remember my first Broadway show. It was The Sound of Music with Mary Martin. The minute the nuns came onstage, I ran out of the theater and started running through the streets, with my father running closely behind. By the time he caught up with me, I was outside of the cinema, and then we both went in to see Goldfinger instead.
They just showed an action sequence featuring [Chris] Evans and [Dakota] Fanning and what comes out of Fanning’s mouth? “Shit.” A few people did double-takes. “Did she just say what I think she said?” asked one person.
Roger Ebert eulogizes the show he started with Gene Siskel:
One thing we never did, apart from an occasional special show, was depart from the format: Two critics debating the week’s new movies. No “advance looks” at trailers for movies we hadn’t even seen. No celebrity interviews. No red carpet sound bites. Just two guys talking about the movies. At one point, our show and two clones were on the air simultaneously. Then we were left alone again: The only show on TV that would actually tell you if we thought a movie was bad. There was one improvement; we retired Spot (and his successor, Aroma the Educated Skunk) to free up a segment for another review. I remember when we jumped to commercial syndication at Tribune Entertainment, and our new producer Joe Antelo, backed us in reviewing movies by Fassbinder, Truffaut, Herzog–“those guys. Where else they gonna hear about them?”
I’ve been really enjoying screenwriter/”The Nines” director John August’s blog:
Sloane Crosley’s I Was Told There’d Be Cake is a collection of mostly-witty essays in the style of David Sedaris. Crosley is the centerpiece of most of the tales, and she’s likable enough. Barely. I can imagine being her friend: In my 20’s, I would have been her gay roommate and/or co-worker sharing eye rolls at perceived transgressions of a secret social code. In my 30’s, I would recognize that her minor misfortunes are invariably self-sabotage in the hopes of attracting attention, and would eventually stop returning her calls.
[Photo: Preferable to nuns — “Goldfinger,” United Artists, 1964]
+ Theatrical Release (Portfolio)
+ Dakota Fanning’s potty mouth in ‘Push’ (Risky Business Blog – Hollywood Reporter)
+ The balcony is closed (Roger Ebert’s Journal)
+ Zombies, Bridesmaids and Assassins (JohnAugust.com)