By the Sea Angelina Jolie doesn't care if you like her. But it's not out of snobbery, some kind of looking down on the little people; she's too focused, too mysterious, too fascinatingly complicated for that.
We're driving around Palm Springs and Udo Kier is asking me to check on his ball. Has it arrived? I'm not certain what he's talking about. A ball has not been mentioned yet today, but as we slowly creep past his block, I check for a ball as if this is the most normal thing to do.
Who cares so much about a damn handbag? Women do. And not just for fashion, as Hitchcock so astutely noticed, but for what Kier also so astutely pointed out. Organization. Organization in that chaotic organ that will spill out of your satchel in messy, sticky, dysfunctional passionate disarray.
I like Oscars that go a little crazy. And not in those golly-gee speeches where someone -- say, Anne Hathaway (the inevitable winner tonight) -- reacts with such feigned shock that she giddily exhibits an actorly, cute-as-a-button manic depressive episode.
I don't loathe Valentine's Day -- I just loathe the pressure placed on people. Buy a single rose, if you must. Buy an Otis Redding album (always do that). And watch a movie, preferably a movie in which romance goes terribly awry -- like Vertigo.
The late, great Jack Lemmon's birthday is February 8th which led me back to one of his finest performances -- Days of Wine and Roses. Watch it for the first time or watch it again. Rest in Peace, Jack Lemmon.
Forty years later, Deliverance and its ideas have not aged a day. It still feels ahead of its time -- even dangerous. Promoting the picture's 40th anniversary, the stars sat down to discuss this masterpiece, its themes and what went into making such a masterful picture.
The Black Keys and Jack White would kill to imbibe whatever magical potion Wray was concocting. And as much as I respect the Keys and White, they'll never achieve the alchemy of Wray. And they would surely agree.
The Berlin Film Festival held the world premiere of the 4K restoration of Taxi Driver. After many viewings throughout my life, the movie, all red light and red blood and red anger, is still lingering in my mind.
Since it's V-Day, I want to return to the exalting, superb Punch-Drunk Love, which remains one of the most romantic movies of the last 10 years. I was baffled by its mixed reception and wonder if it remains misunderstood to this day.
Every once in a while, a trailer will come along that gets to me. Such is the case with David Fincher's haunting two and a half minutes on Facebook. If I'm in a certain mood about my life, this trailer makes me overwhelmingly sad.