I'm not sure what I was expecting when NBC announced that they were doing a television show about the early days of Hannibal Lecter, but I didn't think that they'd go so far as to make "Hannibal" an actual horror program. We've seen some fairly intense and violent crime procedurals in recent years, like the early days of "Criminal Minds," but "Hannibal" pushes much farther, giving us shocking, yet tasteful blood and gore in amounts I don't believe I've ever seen on network television before. We're not in "American Horror Story" or "Dexter" territory, but it's pretty close.
This is only one of many interesting elements that "Hannibal" has going for it. However, this is one of those series that looks like it's going to need some time for the actors to settle into their roles, and for the writers to work out the dynamics of the characters' relationships. For instance, there's our main character, Will Graham (Hugh Dancy), a criminal profiler with the FBI, who has been reimagined as having unusually strong empathy that he can use to place himself in the mindset of killers and work out their motives and intentions. The price of this gift is severe social anxiety and other autism spectrum impediments. He has to be coaxed into participating in the FBI's latest serial killer manhunt by Agent Crawford (Laurence Fishburne). Dancy makes Graham nervous and awkward and a bit of a mumbler. He's not compelling yet, but he could be, depending on where his character arc takes him.
And then we have Mads Mikkelsen, the Danish actor who was recruited for a new take on Dr. Hannibal Lecter. His thick accent requires some sharp attention to penetrate, but he brings such a great presence to the screen. Lecter is not the subject of tonight's first manhunt, but rather a highly respected psychiatrist and forensic scientist who is brought in to consult on the case, eventually partnering up with Will Graham. The creators have a lot of fun hinting at his future depravities, showing multiple scenes of him eating servings of meat with carnivorous relish, and advising a nervous patient on the nature of fear. Lecter doesn't do much in the first episode, and doesn't even appear onscreen until the halfway mark. However, it is quickly established that his degree of moral turpitude is murky at best. He helps both sides in the case, exuding the appropriate amounts of charisma and menace as needed. No Anthony Hopkins impersonations here. None needed.
A few other characters are briefly introduced, including Dr. Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas), another profiler who Agent Crawford goes to for help, and who the previews suggest will become Will Graham's major love interest. Hettienne Park, Aaron Abrams, and Scott Thompson (yes, from "Kids in the Hall") pop up as crime scene investigators, who provide rounds of helpful exposition with each new corpse. This is going to be a very dialogue-heavy show, as most crime procedurals are, and it's clear that our two leads haven't quite got the hang of delivering the usual verbal torrents of information yet. This is especially apparent when they're in a scene with Fishburne, a veteran of multiple seasons of "CSI."
This is where all the guts and gore really help. The snazzy technological tomfoolery of your average "CSI" episode has nothing on viscerality of the beautifully staged crime scenes and Will Graham's visions of bloody violence in "Hannibal." And this is where you really see the hand of the show's creator, Bryan Fuller, who was previously responsible for the whimsical worlds of "Pushing Daisies" and "Mockingbird Lane." "Hannibal" shows he's pretty handy with lurid Grand Guignol horrors too. I only wish that all the graphic content could have been put in service of a better script. For a first outing it's not bad, but there's plenty of room for improvement.
One thing to note is that "Hannibal" is being described as a limited series by NBC, which means only thirteen episodes to a season, faster payoff for major arcs, and hopefully a higher level of quality overall. It's a good sign that they're already pushing the envelope as far as the content, which means that we're more likely to see Dr. Lecter and friends get to the really dark and twisted places where they ultimately need to go. Bryan Fuller has mentioned in interviews that he wants to get to the events of "Red Dragon," the first of Thomas Harris' Lecter books, by season four.
I hope the series survives long enough to get there. The Thursday night 10PM timeslot has not been kind to NBC, having killed off several promising crime shows in recent years, including "Prime Suspect" and "Awake." Will it finally meet its match in Dr. Hannibal Lecter? Guess we'll have to stay tuned to see.
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Friday, April 5, 2013
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Goodbye, Roger
Well, we all knew it was coming, didn't we? Roger Ebert, film critic of the Chicago Sun Times for nearly fifty years, passed away today at the age of 70 after a long battle with cancer. A few days ago he posted an announcement to his blog that he was taking a "leave of presence," reducing his workload significantly after discovering that his cancer had returned. I'm glad he got to say goodbye, even if it wasn't meant to be such a final one.
To say that Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel had a great influence on my development as a movie fan is a massive understatement. It was thanks to years of watching "Siskel & Ebert" every Sunday evening before "60 Minutes" that I understood that you could discuss films seriously, as pieces of art as opposed to entertainment. Of course, they clearly enjoyed the films they reviewed, and Ebert was always the one who was more inclined to stick up for the mainstream blockbusters, the genre pictures, and the oddball efforts. Ebert was, after all, the screenwriter of "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls," directed by the supreme 70s schlockmeister, Russ Meyer.
I followed the program up to the bitter end, through the years with Richard Roeper, through the idiot Bens, and through the brief return to form with Michael Phillips and A.O.Scott before it was finally cancelled for good. During grad school I'd even stay up every weekend to watch it in the post-midnight timeslot where the local ABC affiliate had banished it. Fortunately, episodes went online and it was easier to access. A new version of "At the Movies" came along on PBS a few years later with other hosts, but I lost track of it after a few months, and it didn't last much longer after that. I still see movie ads sometimes and find myself expecting to see the once ubiquitous "two thumbs up!" quote pop up somewhere. People used to parody that line to death, but I haven't heard it in years.
I didn't have regular access to Ebert's written reviews for the Sun Times until the internet came along, and soon I became a regular reader, not just of the reviews, but of his columns, the Q&As, the letters, the interviews, festival reports, awards commentary, and much more. His writing was so strong, so personable, so funny, and so inviting. Even after I stopped visiting the site regularly, I still kept up with this blog as best I could. And when I first started writing reviews myself, it was his work I modeled myself after. How long should a movie review be? I checked his stuff and noted that he got the job done in 600-700 words per review. I also noted that he would revisit and write new reviews for older, beloved films. And he would write opinion pieces, simply because he had an opinion that he felt should be shared. And once in a while, he would change his mind.
I so admire the relationship that he had with his readers, the dialogues and discussions that he would have, and his ability to share so much with his fans. When he championed a movie, he would do it passionately and wholeheartedly, no matter what anyone else thought. I remember him getting behind the little-seen science fiction film "Dark City" in 1998, eventually declaring it the best film of the year. My DVD of the film has the commentary track he recorded for it. I probably never would have seen the movie without his recommendation, and now it's one of my favorites.
And then there was his Overlooked Film Festivals, and his shot-by-shot analysis screenings at the University of Chicago, where he taught many classes over the years, and so many other fascinating film events that he was at the center of. I would read the recaps or hear about them from other fans, and wish I could have attended somehow, even though I was always hundreds and hundreds of miles away. It was never hard to find fans of Roger Ebert though. He's clearly the most influential film critic of our times, the most popular and among the most trusted. There's no one who writes about film that hasn't benefited from his success or his example.
We've had a very long time to get used to a world without Roger Ebert. After his illness he was still very active as a film critic, but you could see him slowing down bit by bit, and it was clear he would never recover from the disastrous surgery in 2006 that robbed us of his physical voice. On a recent visit to his site, I was alarmed to see that almost all the recent reviews had been contributed by other critics, notably Richard Roeper. I hurriedly checked his blog to make sure he was still there, that he was still writing.
And then a few days ago we got the announcement of his effective retirement. And now the balcony is closed.
---
To say that Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel had a great influence on my development as a movie fan is a massive understatement. It was thanks to years of watching "Siskel & Ebert" every Sunday evening before "60 Minutes" that I understood that you could discuss films seriously, as pieces of art as opposed to entertainment. Of course, they clearly enjoyed the films they reviewed, and Ebert was always the one who was more inclined to stick up for the mainstream blockbusters, the genre pictures, and the oddball efforts. Ebert was, after all, the screenwriter of "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls," directed by the supreme 70s schlockmeister, Russ Meyer.
I followed the program up to the bitter end, through the years with Richard Roeper, through the idiot Bens, and through the brief return to form with Michael Phillips and A.O.Scott before it was finally cancelled for good. During grad school I'd even stay up every weekend to watch it in the post-midnight timeslot where the local ABC affiliate had banished it. Fortunately, episodes went online and it was easier to access. A new version of "At the Movies" came along on PBS a few years later with other hosts, but I lost track of it after a few months, and it didn't last much longer after that. I still see movie ads sometimes and find myself expecting to see the once ubiquitous "two thumbs up!" quote pop up somewhere. People used to parody that line to death, but I haven't heard it in years.
I didn't have regular access to Ebert's written reviews for the Sun Times until the internet came along, and soon I became a regular reader, not just of the reviews, but of his columns, the Q&As, the letters, the interviews, festival reports, awards commentary, and much more. His writing was so strong, so personable, so funny, and so inviting. Even after I stopped visiting the site regularly, I still kept up with this blog as best I could. And when I first started writing reviews myself, it was his work I modeled myself after. How long should a movie review be? I checked his stuff and noted that he got the job done in 600-700 words per review. I also noted that he would revisit and write new reviews for older, beloved films. And he would write opinion pieces, simply because he had an opinion that he felt should be shared. And once in a while, he would change his mind.
I so admire the relationship that he had with his readers, the dialogues and discussions that he would have, and his ability to share so much with his fans. When he championed a movie, he would do it passionately and wholeheartedly, no matter what anyone else thought. I remember him getting behind the little-seen science fiction film "Dark City" in 1998, eventually declaring it the best film of the year. My DVD of the film has the commentary track he recorded for it. I probably never would have seen the movie without his recommendation, and now it's one of my favorites.
And then there was his Overlooked Film Festivals, and his shot-by-shot analysis screenings at the University of Chicago, where he taught many classes over the years, and so many other fascinating film events that he was at the center of. I would read the recaps or hear about them from other fans, and wish I could have attended somehow, even though I was always hundreds and hundreds of miles away. It was never hard to find fans of Roger Ebert though. He's clearly the most influential film critic of our times, the most popular and among the most trusted. There's no one who writes about film that hasn't benefited from his success or his example.
We've had a very long time to get used to a world without Roger Ebert. After his illness he was still very active as a film critic, but you could see him slowing down bit by bit, and it was clear he would never recover from the disastrous surgery in 2006 that robbed us of his physical voice. On a recent visit to his site, I was alarmed to see that almost all the recent reviews had been contributed by other critics, notably Richard Roeper. I hurriedly checked his blog to make sure he was still there, that he was still writing.
And then a few days ago we got the announcement of his effective retirement. And now the balcony is closed.
---
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Into "Room 237"
You can't be a hardcore movie fan for long without running into someone who has come up with their own personal elaborate theory about a certain favorite film. All serious movie fans do this to some degree - I certainly do, looking for different interpretations and readings of films the same way that academics analyze certain works of literature. There are whole fields of film theory and film studies that examine what films say about the societies and cultures that produced them. However, there are always those fans who take things a little too far, who fixate on certain ideas or theories and then will go to extraordinary lengths to prove that they're right.
The documentary, "Room 237" features six of these people. We never see them, but we hear them speak at length, about the secrets that they believe that they have uncovered in Stanley Kubrick's beloved 1980 horror film, "The Shining." One believes that Kubrick inserted clues that point to his involvement in supposedly faking the moon landing. Another sees coded references to the massacre of Native Americans. Another finds Holocaust parallels. Another works out that the Overlook Hotel has impossible architecture, and thinks the story is a new take on Jason and the Minotaur. "Room 237" presents their arguments, with lots of visual aids taken from "The Shining," Kubrick's other films, and archival footage. Some of the theories are very entertaining, but few are very convincing. Almost all the big "Ah-HA!" moments can be chalked up to coincidence or artistic license taken for completely unrelated reasons.
Does this mean that "Room 237" is a failure? I don't think so. While I don't believe it offers many new insights on "The Shining," what it does do successfully is give you an interesting picture of these obsessive “Shining” fans. Several of them are clearly quite intelligent and well-educated, having done massive amounts of outside research to support their fantastic claims. They all appear to have expended considerable amounts of time and energy watching “The Shining” over and over again, looking for more clues. One segment of “Room 237” is devoted to someone who decided to watch the film run backwards and forwards simultaneously, with the images superimposed on top of each other, to look for any interesting results. He finds some neat moments where the pictures line up in curious ways, and of course he would – people who go looking for hidden conspiracies and secret messages always manage to find them.
It’s fascinating to see how these people have developed their own odd relationships and histories with the movie, treating it quite differently from the way that academics and film critics analyze films when they take them apart. The fans believe that Kubrick, the great stickler for detail that he was, intentionally included these secret signs and messages, and wanted them to be found. Academics often consider the intent of the directors and writers of a film to be irrelevant, looking instead for themes and conventions that reflect unspoken social mores and assumptions. Critics, including yours truly, tend to see unusual elements as stylistic or storytelling choices. Is architecture of the Overlook Hotel impossible? If it was done deliberately, it was probably to increase the viewer’s disorientation. Or maybe it was just a case of continuity errors. Even Stanley Kubrick wasn’t perfect.
The question becomes, not whether any of the theories presented in "Room 237" hold any water, but why "The Shining" has managed to inspire such wild mysteries and mythologies around it. My guess is that it has to do with the notoriety of "The Shining" itself, not just for being an especially effective and multilayered horror film, but for the stories about the intense behind-the-scenes drama during the film's prolonged production, and especially for the involvement of Stanley Kubrick. This was a director who was a perfectionist, who did demand 127 takes of the baseball bat scene, and who not only had the "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" pages typed out by his secretary, but also additional ones in different languages for international versions of the movie. If there was any director likely to put obscure secret messages in his work, surely it was Kubrick.
"Room 237" adds to his myth. Those gullible souls predisposed to believe in conspiracy theories will eat the stuff up, and I expect that "Shining" fans will appreciate seeing the little things they never noticed pointed out - the recurring Native American motifs, the television missing a cable, and who was that other man in the office during the interview? But it's plain to see when a skiing poster is just a skiing poster, and a movie is just a movie. "Room 237" is a lot of fun, but it may also make you wince at some of the convoluted reasoning that the six “experts” employ. Contrary to what the marketing may tell you, this is not a documentary about “The Shining.” It’s a documentary about the most extreme fans of “The Shining,” and that in its own way, is a far more frightening thing.
---
The documentary, "Room 237" features six of these people. We never see them, but we hear them speak at length, about the secrets that they believe that they have uncovered in Stanley Kubrick's beloved 1980 horror film, "The Shining." One believes that Kubrick inserted clues that point to his involvement in supposedly faking the moon landing. Another sees coded references to the massacre of Native Americans. Another finds Holocaust parallels. Another works out that the Overlook Hotel has impossible architecture, and thinks the story is a new take on Jason and the Minotaur. "Room 237" presents their arguments, with lots of visual aids taken from "The Shining," Kubrick's other films, and archival footage. Some of the theories are very entertaining, but few are very convincing. Almost all the big "Ah-HA!" moments can be chalked up to coincidence or artistic license taken for completely unrelated reasons.
Does this mean that "Room 237" is a failure? I don't think so. While I don't believe it offers many new insights on "The Shining," what it does do successfully is give you an interesting picture of these obsessive “Shining” fans. Several of them are clearly quite intelligent and well-educated, having done massive amounts of outside research to support their fantastic claims. They all appear to have expended considerable amounts of time and energy watching “The Shining” over and over again, looking for more clues. One segment of “Room 237” is devoted to someone who decided to watch the film run backwards and forwards simultaneously, with the images superimposed on top of each other, to look for any interesting results. He finds some neat moments where the pictures line up in curious ways, and of course he would – people who go looking for hidden conspiracies and secret messages always manage to find them.
It’s fascinating to see how these people have developed their own odd relationships and histories with the movie, treating it quite differently from the way that academics and film critics analyze films when they take them apart. The fans believe that Kubrick, the great stickler for detail that he was, intentionally included these secret signs and messages, and wanted them to be found. Academics often consider the intent of the directors and writers of a film to be irrelevant, looking instead for themes and conventions that reflect unspoken social mores and assumptions. Critics, including yours truly, tend to see unusual elements as stylistic or storytelling choices. Is architecture of the Overlook Hotel impossible? If it was done deliberately, it was probably to increase the viewer’s disorientation. Or maybe it was just a case of continuity errors. Even Stanley Kubrick wasn’t perfect.
The question becomes, not whether any of the theories presented in "Room 237" hold any water, but why "The Shining" has managed to inspire such wild mysteries and mythologies around it. My guess is that it has to do with the notoriety of "The Shining" itself, not just for being an especially effective and multilayered horror film, but for the stories about the intense behind-the-scenes drama during the film's prolonged production, and especially for the involvement of Stanley Kubrick. This was a director who was a perfectionist, who did demand 127 takes of the baseball bat scene, and who not only had the "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" pages typed out by his secretary, but also additional ones in different languages for international versions of the movie. If there was any director likely to put obscure secret messages in his work, surely it was Kubrick.
"Room 237" adds to his myth. Those gullible souls predisposed to believe in conspiracy theories will eat the stuff up, and I expect that "Shining" fans will appreciate seeing the little things they never noticed pointed out - the recurring Native American motifs, the television missing a cable, and who was that other man in the office during the interview? But it's plain to see when a skiing poster is just a skiing poster, and a movie is just a movie. "Room 237" is a lot of fun, but it may also make you wince at some of the convoluted reasoning that the six “experts” employ. Contrary to what the marketing may tell you, this is not a documentary about “The Shining.” It’s a documentary about the most extreme fans of “The Shining,” and that in its own way, is a far more frightening thing.
---
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
"Hitchcock" is Pretty Humdrum
One of the most intriguing, but often frustrating subgenres of film are biopics about notable directors or behind-the-scenes exposes of how famous films were made. There haven't been many, but once in a while someone will try to pay homage to one of the old greats, and Hollywood does love movies about Hollywood. We get an "Ed Wood" or a "Shadow of the Vampire" if we're lucky, or a "My Life With Marilyn" if we're not. The trouble is that the filmmakers responsible for these movies are rarely in the same league with the directors or stars that they're trying to honor, and their reverence for their subjects can get in the way of presenting a compelling picture of the artists. These complaints are definitely applicable to "Hitchcock," the recent movie about the tumultuous production of Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho."
Now this should be fascinating subject matter, about how Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins), a successful director starting to feel his age, took a bold gamble and financed the production of a movie that nobody wanted to make, resulting in a smash hit that became one of the most influential horror movies of all time. "Hitchcock" dutifully hits all the required historical marks, including scenes of Hitchcock arguing with the censors, reassuring Janet Leigh (Scarlett Johanssen) about the shower scene, briefly touching on his affair with actress Vera Miles (Jessica Biel), and finally showing off Hitchcock's skill as an impresario as he cooked up the famous publicity campaign for "Psycho." This is all handled in a very straightforward, businesslike manner, and though it's hard to find fault with any of the performances or the casting, nobody is particularly convincing either. I suspect only movie nerds who already know Hitchcock's work will be particularly interested in watching these events play out.
On the other hand, it often feels like the making of "Psycho" is just the backdrop for the drama playing out between Hitchcock and Alma Reville (Helen Mirren), his wife and vital collaborator. A huge portion of "Hitchcock" is concerned with their marriage troubles. Reville, feeling lonely and unappreciated, takes up an offer to collaborate on a screenplay with writer friend Whitfield Cook (Danny Huston). This leads Hitchcock to suspect that she's having an affair. He starts having recurring revenge and murder fantasies, some involving Ed Gein (Michael Wincott), the murderer who was the inspiration for "Psycho." Helen Mirren's Reville is absolutely wonderful, and the best thing about the movie, so it's no mystery why the filmmakers would want to keep her at the center of the story. Many of the best scenes involve her and Hopkins' Hitchcock just having conversations, fussing over work, and Hitchcock's diet, and day to day frustrations. Everything outside this immediate sphere just feels like a distraction.
"Hitchcock" tries to do too many things at once. At its core, it wants to be an easy, lighthearted look at the working partnership of Hitchcock and Reville, and the making of "Psycho." But then there are the subplots with Janet Leigh and Vera Miles, which touch on more serious issues. And the darker elements with the Ed Gein fantasies. And the whole business with the affair that keeps trying to push parallels between Hitchcock's work and his home life, which are not very convincing. And then there are the bookends that frame the story like an episode of Hitchcock's old television show. And the nudge-nudge wink-wink references and in-jokes. There are a lot of clever ideas, but only a few of them that work as intended. And to my chagrin, there were only a few scenes, including one involving Hitchcock taking in the first audience responses to "Psycho," that really said much of anything about Alfred Hitchcock as a filmmaker.
The common complaint I've heard about "Hitchcock" is that it's too complimentary, and that it sanitizes many of Hitchcock's personal faults. HBO's "The Girl," based on the memoirs of Tippi Hedron, portrays Hitchcock as a tyrant and borderline sadist. However, I don't see any problem with this more sympathetic version existing too, especially for the purposes of a film with such small and pleasant ambitions. I guess my biggest criticism of the film is that the ambitions are so small. "Hitchcock" feels like the modest cable television movie you would make about Janet Leigh or Alma Reville, not something that should bear a title with as much weight to it as "Hitchcock," or sold as a film that chronicles the birth of a movie as psychologically rich as "Psycho."
If you're in the mood for a nostalgic, occasionally romantic period piece that uses Hollywood as a backdrop, and you are a little familiar with Alfred Hitchcock, then "Hitchcock" is a perfectly enjoyable piece of light entertainment. If you're looking for something that really gives you an idea of what making "Psycho" entailed, or what Hitchcock was like as a filmmaker, I suggest sticking with the existing books and documentaries.
---
Now this should be fascinating subject matter, about how Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins), a successful director starting to feel his age, took a bold gamble and financed the production of a movie that nobody wanted to make, resulting in a smash hit that became one of the most influential horror movies of all time. "Hitchcock" dutifully hits all the required historical marks, including scenes of Hitchcock arguing with the censors, reassuring Janet Leigh (Scarlett Johanssen) about the shower scene, briefly touching on his affair with actress Vera Miles (Jessica Biel), and finally showing off Hitchcock's skill as an impresario as he cooked up the famous publicity campaign for "Psycho." This is all handled in a very straightforward, businesslike manner, and though it's hard to find fault with any of the performances or the casting, nobody is particularly convincing either. I suspect only movie nerds who already know Hitchcock's work will be particularly interested in watching these events play out.
On the other hand, it often feels like the making of "Psycho" is just the backdrop for the drama playing out between Hitchcock and Alma Reville (Helen Mirren), his wife and vital collaborator. A huge portion of "Hitchcock" is concerned with their marriage troubles. Reville, feeling lonely and unappreciated, takes up an offer to collaborate on a screenplay with writer friend Whitfield Cook (Danny Huston). This leads Hitchcock to suspect that she's having an affair. He starts having recurring revenge and murder fantasies, some involving Ed Gein (Michael Wincott), the murderer who was the inspiration for "Psycho." Helen Mirren's Reville is absolutely wonderful, and the best thing about the movie, so it's no mystery why the filmmakers would want to keep her at the center of the story. Many of the best scenes involve her and Hopkins' Hitchcock just having conversations, fussing over work, and Hitchcock's diet, and day to day frustrations. Everything outside this immediate sphere just feels like a distraction.
"Hitchcock" tries to do too many things at once. At its core, it wants to be an easy, lighthearted look at the working partnership of Hitchcock and Reville, and the making of "Psycho." But then there are the subplots with Janet Leigh and Vera Miles, which touch on more serious issues. And the darker elements with the Ed Gein fantasies. And the whole business with the affair that keeps trying to push parallels between Hitchcock's work and his home life, which are not very convincing. And then there are the bookends that frame the story like an episode of Hitchcock's old television show. And the nudge-nudge wink-wink references and in-jokes. There are a lot of clever ideas, but only a few of them that work as intended. And to my chagrin, there were only a few scenes, including one involving Hitchcock taking in the first audience responses to "Psycho," that really said much of anything about Alfred Hitchcock as a filmmaker.
The common complaint I've heard about "Hitchcock" is that it's too complimentary, and that it sanitizes many of Hitchcock's personal faults. HBO's "The Girl," based on the memoirs of Tippi Hedron, portrays Hitchcock as a tyrant and borderline sadist. However, I don't see any problem with this more sympathetic version existing too, especially for the purposes of a film with such small and pleasant ambitions. I guess my biggest criticism of the film is that the ambitions are so small. "Hitchcock" feels like the modest cable television movie you would make about Janet Leigh or Alma Reville, not something that should bear a title with as much weight to it as "Hitchcock," or sold as a film that chronicles the birth of a movie as psychologically rich as "Psycho."
If you're in the mood for a nostalgic, occasionally romantic period piece that uses Hollywood as a backdrop, and you are a little familiar with Alfred Hitchcock, then "Hitchcock" is a perfectly enjoyable piece of light entertainment. If you're looking for something that really gives you an idea of what making "Psycho" entailed, or what Hitchcock was like as a filmmaker, I suggest sticking with the existing books and documentaries.
---
Monday, April 1, 2013
Doom Doom Doom
And now ladies and gentlemen, The Doom Song.
Doom doom doom doomy doom doom doom DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doom doom doom. Doom doom doom! Doomy doomie doomey doo-wah doom! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doo doo doom doom doom. Da doom, da doom DOOM DOOM DOOM DA DA DOOM! DOOOOOOM!
Dee dah DOOM! Da Da DOOM! DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, Da da DOOM da DOOM! Dooom doooooom doooooom dooooom, DOOM DOOM (da-doom doom doom). DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doomerino, Doomeransky, Doomie-oomie-oomie-oooooom! DOOM dah doom dah doom doom doom doom DOOOOOOM! Doom!
Doom doom doomdoom DOOMDOOM doom doom doomdoomdoom doom doom DOOMDOOMDOOM doom doom doom doomdoom doom doom dee deed da DOOOM DOOOM DOOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! DOO-WAH-DOOOMIE DOOMIE DUM DIDDIE DOOM!
Doom doom doo-da-doom, doom doom doo-da-doom, doom doom doo-da-doom, DOOM! Doom doom da doom dooooom, doom doom da doom dooooom, doom doom doom doomy doomy doom DOOM doom DOOOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM da-doom doom DOOM do-doom doom DOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM da-da-doom DOOM, da-da DOOM. DOOM da-da-doom DOOM, da-da DOOM da-da-DOOM! DOOM DOOMIE DOOM DOOM. Doom doomie-doom-doom. Doom doom doom DOOM doom, DOO-DOOM DOO-DOOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM!
Dooom! Dooom! Doomy doomy doomydoomy, DOOM doom doom doomy! Doom dum doom dum doomy doom doom. Da-doomie doomie doom doom doom. Doomie! Doomie! Doom doom doom dee doomie. Doomdoom doomdoom, doom doom doo doom doom doom. Dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom. Dooooooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom. Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Doom doom doom, doom dee dee dee doom doom doom. La la la doom. FA LA LA LA LA LA DOOOM, DOOOM DOOOOOOM!
Doom doom doom doom doom, doom doom do DOOM, DOOOM doom do-doom, DOOM do-doom doom doooom, doom doom dooom, do-do-DOOOM! Doom doom doo doom doom. DOOMY-DOOMY-DOOM, doom do do DOOM. Do do DOOM, doomy-doomy-doomy, Doom doom doom.
Doom da-doom.
THE END
Doom doom doom doomy doom doom doom DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doom doom doom. Doom doom doom! Doomy doomie doomey doo-wah doom! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doo doo doom doom doom. Da doom, da doom DOOM DOOM DOOM DA DA DOOM! DOOOOOOM!
Dee dah DOOM! Da Da DOOM! DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, DOOM doom doom doom, Da da DOOM da DOOM! Dooom doooooom doooooom dooooom, DOOM DOOM (da-doom doom doom). DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doomerino, Doomeransky, Doomie-oomie-oomie-oooooom! DOOM dah doom dah doom doom doom doom DOOOOOOM! Doom!
Doom doom doomdoom DOOMDOOM doom doom doomdoomdoom doom doom DOOMDOOMDOOM doom doom doom doomdoom doom doom dee deed da DOOOM DOOOM DOOOM! DOOM DOOM DOOM dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom DA DOOM! DA DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Dum dum dum DOOM! DOO-WAH-DOOOMIE DOOMIE DUM DIDDIE DOOM!
Doom doom doo-da-doom, doom doom doo-da-doom, doom doom doo-da-doom, DOOM! Doom doom da doom dooooom, doom doom da doom dooooom, doom doom doom doomy doomy doom DOOM doom DOOOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM da-doom doom DOOM do-doom doom DOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM da-da-doom DOOM, da-da DOOM. DOOM da-da-doom DOOM, da-da DOOM da-da-DOOM! DOOM DOOMIE DOOM DOOM. Doom doomie-doom-doom. Doom doom doom DOOM doom, DOO-DOOM DOO-DOOOM! Doom doom doom DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOMDOOMDOOMDOOM!
Dooom! Dooom! Doomy doomy doomydoomy, DOOM doom doom doomy! Doom dum doom dum doomy doom doom. Da-doomie doomie doom doom doom. Doomie! Doomie! Doom doom doom dee doomie. Doomdoom doomdoom, doom doom doo doom doom doom. Dooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom. Dooooooooom doom doom da doom da doom doom doom doo doom doo doom. Doom doom doom, doom dee doom dee doom doom doom. Doom doom doom, doom dee dee dee doom doom doom. La la la doom. FA LA LA LA LA LA DOOOM, DOOOM DOOOOOOM!
Doom doom doom doom doom, doom doom do DOOM, DOOOM doom do-doom, DOOM do-doom doom doooom, doom doom dooom, do-do-DOOOM! Doom doom doo doom doom. DOOMY-DOOMY-DOOM, doom do do DOOM. Do do DOOM, doomy-doomy-doomy, Doom doom doom.
Doom da-doom.
THE END
Sunday, March 31, 2013
More Bunnies, Less Crucifixions
Easter came around awfully quick this year, didn't it? I was all set to blog a new "Great Directors" post to tie in with the holiday, but I forgot that Easter came in March, and we've already had a post about Carl Theodore Dreyer. I still feel like saying a little on the subject of religion in films, since Easter is probably the most blatantly religious celebration that's still widely observed in the United States. Christmas has become an exercise in commercialism for the most part, but there's still quite a lot of spirituality attached to Easter – well, ignoring the elements that were lifted from the worship of pagan fertility goddess Eostre, like the bunnies and the eggs.
But on the subject of religion in film, in the mainstream we've seen a drastic reduction in religious themes of any sort being explored by our most prominent filmmakers. Go back to the early days of cinema, and there were many directors like Bergman, Dreyer, and Bresson, who wrestled with belief and faith onscreen. Hollywood used to love religious epics like "Ben-Hur," "Exodus," and "The Ten Commandments," and it was common to see nuns and priests and other religious figures at the center of Hollywood crowd-pleasers like "Boys Town," "Song of Bernadette," "A Nun's Story," and "Lilies of the Field," to name but a few.
In the modern day, you still occasionally get a "Machine Gun Preacher," and Tyler Perry's movies have always been Christian-friendly entertainment, but otherwise, the faith-based film has become a niche, and not a very well-regarded one. The public tends to associate films that explicitly talk about religion with the insipid, overly wholesome Christian church-approved entertainments aimed at kids, or message films that try to push a certain agenda. After a few notable scandals in the 80s and 90s, religion has become an extremely unpopular subject with serious filmmakers, because it is simply too controversial to deal with in an honest manner, with any artistic integrity. Remember all the fuss around Scorsese's "Last Temptation of Christ"?
Hollywood will still occasionally turn out a "Passion of the Christ" or a "Prince of Egypt" to try to cash in on the Christian audience, but it's not the audience it used to be. In the US, the church has become more and more unpopular over time, atheism is on the rise, and secularism is the norm. Sure, you still see priests and nuns and many faithful believers in the movies, but religion itself tends to be downplayed. Terence Malick's "Tree of Life," for instance, clearly featured Christian characters, and had heavy existential and philosophical themes, but you can't really categorize it as a religious film. Hollywood will take pains to avoid offending Christian moviegoers, toning content that is critical of the church in films like "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" or "The Golden Compass," but there's no assumption, as there used to be, that Hollywood films are for a default Christian audience.
Look at the recent "Life of Pi," which was largely about the main character exploring and questioning the basis of his faith. The film did not take any particular stance on which religion was correct, showing the titular Pi trying out Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam in turn. Ultimately, the film's spirituality was handled in very broad, general terms, and is ultimately more of an allegory for faith than anything else. Or then you have "The Sessions," an independent comedy about a severely disabled man who is religious, and wrestles with the question of whether using the services of a sex surrogate would be considered a sin. The treatment of extramarital sex is very light and positive, and the religious dilemma is a minor obstacle in the grand scheme of things. However, the inclusion of the protagonist's religion and his consultations with a friendly priest are exceptional, not for how they are handled, but for being brought up at all.
The success of the History Channel's recent "Bible" series has lead to a minor rush for more Christian-themed projects in development, despite some controversy about some of the content, like the suspiciously familiar-looking depiction of Satan. I expect some of these projects will move forward, but many will run afoul of the same problems that all of the recent ones have – questions of accuracy, sensitivity toward other religions and cultures, suspicions regarding evangelical intentions, and finally the worry that the media n question could get hijacked into the culture wars. Religion is one of those topics that has become a major polarizing force, and it often seems like it's impossible to say anything substantive about Christianity or Islam without starting a fight.
It's a shame, because there's such a wealth of material involving religious themes, and some of the old epics really could use a fresh perspective. I've always enjoyed the Bible epics and the more thoughtful, existential films about crises of faith, even though I'm firmly atheist. I understand that religion is a big part of the human experiences, and our films ought to reflect that.
---
But on the subject of religion in film, in the mainstream we've seen a drastic reduction in religious themes of any sort being explored by our most prominent filmmakers. Go back to the early days of cinema, and there were many directors like Bergman, Dreyer, and Bresson, who wrestled with belief and faith onscreen. Hollywood used to love religious epics like "Ben-Hur," "Exodus," and "The Ten Commandments," and it was common to see nuns and priests and other religious figures at the center of Hollywood crowd-pleasers like "Boys Town," "Song of Bernadette," "A Nun's Story," and "Lilies of the Field," to name but a few.
In the modern day, you still occasionally get a "Machine Gun Preacher," and Tyler Perry's movies have always been Christian-friendly entertainment, but otherwise, the faith-based film has become a niche, and not a very well-regarded one. The public tends to associate films that explicitly talk about religion with the insipid, overly wholesome Christian church-approved entertainments aimed at kids, or message films that try to push a certain agenda. After a few notable scandals in the 80s and 90s, religion has become an extremely unpopular subject with serious filmmakers, because it is simply too controversial to deal with in an honest manner, with any artistic integrity. Remember all the fuss around Scorsese's "Last Temptation of Christ"?
Hollywood will still occasionally turn out a "Passion of the Christ" or a "Prince of Egypt" to try to cash in on the Christian audience, but it's not the audience it used to be. In the US, the church has become more and more unpopular over time, atheism is on the rise, and secularism is the norm. Sure, you still see priests and nuns and many faithful believers in the movies, but religion itself tends to be downplayed. Terence Malick's "Tree of Life," for instance, clearly featured Christian characters, and had heavy existential and philosophical themes, but you can't really categorize it as a religious film. Hollywood will take pains to avoid offending Christian moviegoers, toning content that is critical of the church in films like "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" or "The Golden Compass," but there's no assumption, as there used to be, that Hollywood films are for a default Christian audience.
Look at the recent "Life of Pi," which was largely about the main character exploring and questioning the basis of his faith. The film did not take any particular stance on which religion was correct, showing the titular Pi trying out Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam in turn. Ultimately, the film's spirituality was handled in very broad, general terms, and is ultimately more of an allegory for faith than anything else. Or then you have "The Sessions," an independent comedy about a severely disabled man who is religious, and wrestles with the question of whether using the services of a sex surrogate would be considered a sin. The treatment of extramarital sex is very light and positive, and the religious dilemma is a minor obstacle in the grand scheme of things. However, the inclusion of the protagonist's religion and his consultations with a friendly priest are exceptional, not for how they are handled, but for being brought up at all.
The success of the History Channel's recent "Bible" series has lead to a minor rush for more Christian-themed projects in development, despite some controversy about some of the content, like the suspiciously familiar-looking depiction of Satan. I expect some of these projects will move forward, but many will run afoul of the same problems that all of the recent ones have – questions of accuracy, sensitivity toward other religions and cultures, suspicions regarding evangelical intentions, and finally the worry that the media n question could get hijacked into the culture wars. Religion is one of those topics that has become a major polarizing force, and it often seems like it's impossible to say anything substantive about Christianity or Islam without starting a fight.
It's a shame, because there's such a wealth of material involving religious themes, and some of the old epics really could use a fresh perspective. I've always enjoyed the Bible epics and the more thoughtful, existential films about crises of faith, even though I'm firmly atheist. I understand that religion is a big part of the human experiences, and our films ought to reflect that.
---
Thursday, March 28, 2013
A Brief Guide to the Great Directors as Actors
And now for your amusement and edification, I present a brief guide to famous directors appearing in the films of other famous directors. It's been an interesting tradition in films that goes back, a long, long way, and there have been some interesting encounters over the years between one great artist and another. I'm putting aside those accomplished directors who are primarily known as actors, including Mel Gibson, Dennis Hopper, and Charles Laughton.
Then we have Orson Welles (The Third Man, Jane Eyre), John Cassavetes (The Dirty Dozen, Rosemary's Baby), Sydney Pollack (Eyes Wide Shut, Husbands and Wives), Clint Eastwood (The Dollars Trilogy), Lawrence Olivier (Rebecca, Marathon Man), and Vittorio de Sica (The Earrings of Madame De...), who were prolific actors both before and after they became directors. Their collaborations are fairly well known, and I don't think I need to put much emphasis on them here. And then there's Jean Renoir, Woody Allen, Roman Polanski, R.W. Fassbinder, Quentin Tarantino, Spike Lee, and David Lynch, who often put themselves in their own projects, plus Alfred Hitchcock, who famously made a great game of it. For my purposes, let's set them aside too.
A borderline case that I include because it's one of the most celebrated is Erich von Stroheim, a director of such obscure early silent masterpieces as "Greed" and "The Wedding March." He took up acting after his directing career went bust, and is probably best remembered for playing Colonel Rauffenstein in Jean Renoir's "Grand Illusion," and the sinister butler, Max, in Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard." Max, of course, was revealed to be a former silent film director, and brief clips of Von Stroheim's "Queen Kelly," starring "Sunset Boulevard" leading lady Gloria Swanson, were used to illuminate their past relationship and forgotten career successes. "Sunset Boulevard" also featured cameos from Cecil B. DeMille and Buster Keaton.
Several other well-established, successful directors turned out to be very good actors once they took the plunge. John Huston began acting steadily in his later years, most famously appearing in Roman Polanski's "Chinatown" and Otto Preminger's "The Cardinal." Werner Herzog has popped up in some interesting places, including Harmony Korine's "Julien Donkey Boy" and just recently in Christopher McQuarrie's "Jack Reacher" as the villain. Ingmar Bergman recruited his idol, the silent film director Victor Sjostrom, to star in "Wild Strawberries," one of his very best films. And one of my absolute favorites in this category is Francois Truffaut, who made first contact in Steven Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind."
Speaking of Truffaut, the French New Wave was at the center of a web of directors appearing in the films of their friends or devotees. Jean-Pierre Melville was very influential on the New Wave directors, and ended up in many of their films, including Jean Cocteaus' "Orpheus," Jean-Luc Godard's "Breathless," and Eric Rohmer's "Le Signe du Lion," which also had cameos by Jean Luc Godard and Alan Resnais. Melville also appeared in Robert Bresson's "Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne," and Louis Malle's "Zazie Dans le Métro" for good measure. Godard, paying homage to his major influences, put Fritz Lang in "Contempt," playing an aging, frustrated director. And he put Sam Fuller in "Pierrot le Fou" to explain what cinema was: "A film is like a battleground. It’s love, hate, action, violence, death. In one word: emotion.”
The urge to pay homage has had mixed results. There have been some bizarre one-offs like Martin Scorsese playing Vincent Van Gogh in a segment of Akira Kurosawa's "Dreams" and Quentin Tarantino as a gunslinger in Takashi Miike's "Sukiyaki Western Django." Wim Wenders decided to cast directors in all the gangster roles in "The American Friend," based on one of Patricia Highsmith's Tom Ripley novels, and recruited Sam Fuller and Nicholas Ray for the job. Then there are the ones where it's not clear if the appearance is for an homage, or as a lark, or just for convenience's sale. I'm not sure what Federico Fellini is doing as the bum in Roberto Rossellini's "L'Amore." Or why John Waters shows up briefly as a club owner in Woody Allen's "Sweet and Lowdown." Did you even notice George Romero playing an FBI agent in "Silence of the Lambs"? The short, funny stuff, like the Steven Spielberg and Frank Oz cameos in John Landis's "The Blues Brothers," usually worked best.
Otto Preminger was an interesting case, as he initially intended to pursue acting, but proved to be a much better director, and so he accumulated very few screen credits. His most notable parts were as the German warden in Billy Wilder's "Stalag 17," and two episodes of the "Batman" TV show as Mr. Freeze. I feel like Spike Jonze ought to be in the same category. Though he was a director from the start, there was a period early on where he was doing a fair amount of acting work, in David Fincher's "The Game," and as one of the leads in David O'Russell's "Three Kings," which eventually petered out. And of course we we all remember Sofia Coppola in Francis Ford Coppola's "The Godfather Part III." She quit acting after that, but it's worth noting that she did have a bit part as one of Queen Amidala's attendants in "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace."
And finally, we close with a project that didn't quite make it, but that I think still deserves a place on this list. Orson Wells' unfinished "The Other Side of the Wind," intended to be an ambitious Hollywood satire, would have featured John Huston, Peter Bogdanovich, Claude Chabrol, and a very young Cameron Crowe.
---
Then we have Orson Welles (The Third Man, Jane Eyre), John Cassavetes (The Dirty Dozen, Rosemary's Baby), Sydney Pollack (Eyes Wide Shut, Husbands and Wives), Clint Eastwood (The Dollars Trilogy), Lawrence Olivier (Rebecca, Marathon Man), and Vittorio de Sica (The Earrings of Madame De...), who were prolific actors both before and after they became directors. Their collaborations are fairly well known, and I don't think I need to put much emphasis on them here. And then there's Jean Renoir, Woody Allen, Roman Polanski, R.W. Fassbinder, Quentin Tarantino, Spike Lee, and David Lynch, who often put themselves in their own projects, plus Alfred Hitchcock, who famously made a great game of it. For my purposes, let's set them aside too.
A borderline case that I include because it's one of the most celebrated is Erich von Stroheim, a director of such obscure early silent masterpieces as "Greed" and "The Wedding March." He took up acting after his directing career went bust, and is probably best remembered for playing Colonel Rauffenstein in Jean Renoir's "Grand Illusion," and the sinister butler, Max, in Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard." Max, of course, was revealed to be a former silent film director, and brief clips of Von Stroheim's "Queen Kelly," starring "Sunset Boulevard" leading lady Gloria Swanson, were used to illuminate their past relationship and forgotten career successes. "Sunset Boulevard" also featured cameos from Cecil B. DeMille and Buster Keaton.
Several other well-established, successful directors turned out to be very good actors once they took the plunge. John Huston began acting steadily in his later years, most famously appearing in Roman Polanski's "Chinatown" and Otto Preminger's "The Cardinal." Werner Herzog has popped up in some interesting places, including Harmony Korine's "Julien Donkey Boy" and just recently in Christopher McQuarrie's "Jack Reacher" as the villain. Ingmar Bergman recruited his idol, the silent film director Victor Sjostrom, to star in "Wild Strawberries," one of his very best films. And one of my absolute favorites in this category is Francois Truffaut, who made first contact in Steven Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind."
Speaking of Truffaut, the French New Wave was at the center of a web of directors appearing in the films of their friends or devotees. Jean-Pierre Melville was very influential on the New Wave directors, and ended up in many of their films, including Jean Cocteaus' "Orpheus," Jean-Luc Godard's "Breathless," and Eric Rohmer's "Le Signe du Lion," which also had cameos by Jean Luc Godard and Alan Resnais. Melville also appeared in Robert Bresson's "Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne," and Louis Malle's "Zazie Dans le Métro" for good measure. Godard, paying homage to his major influences, put Fritz Lang in "Contempt," playing an aging, frustrated director. And he put Sam Fuller in "Pierrot le Fou" to explain what cinema was: "A film is like a battleground. It’s love, hate, action, violence, death. In one word: emotion.”
The urge to pay homage has had mixed results. There have been some bizarre one-offs like Martin Scorsese playing Vincent Van Gogh in a segment of Akira Kurosawa's "Dreams" and Quentin Tarantino as a gunslinger in Takashi Miike's "Sukiyaki Western Django." Wim Wenders decided to cast directors in all the gangster roles in "The American Friend," based on one of Patricia Highsmith's Tom Ripley novels, and recruited Sam Fuller and Nicholas Ray for the job. Then there are the ones where it's not clear if the appearance is for an homage, or as a lark, or just for convenience's sale. I'm not sure what Federico Fellini is doing as the bum in Roberto Rossellini's "L'Amore." Or why John Waters shows up briefly as a club owner in Woody Allen's "Sweet and Lowdown." Did you even notice George Romero playing an FBI agent in "Silence of the Lambs"? The short, funny stuff, like the Steven Spielberg and Frank Oz cameos in John Landis's "The Blues Brothers," usually worked best.
Otto Preminger was an interesting case, as he initially intended to pursue acting, but proved to be a much better director, and so he accumulated very few screen credits. His most notable parts were as the German warden in Billy Wilder's "Stalag 17," and two episodes of the "Batman" TV show as Mr. Freeze. I feel like Spike Jonze ought to be in the same category. Though he was a director from the start, there was a period early on where he was doing a fair amount of acting work, in David Fincher's "The Game," and as one of the leads in David O'Russell's "Three Kings," which eventually petered out. And of course we we all remember Sofia Coppola in Francis Ford Coppola's "The Godfather Part III." She quit acting after that, but it's worth noting that she did have a bit part as one of Queen Amidala's attendants in "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace."
And finally, we close with a project that didn't quite make it, but that I think still deserves a place on this list. Orson Wells' unfinished "The Other Side of the Wind," intended to be an ambitious Hollywood satire, would have featured John Huston, Peter Bogdanovich, Claude Chabrol, and a very young Cameron Crowe.
---
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