In the words of Lionel ‘Elvis’ Cormac (Willem Dafoe), “Life’s a bitch, and then you don’t die.” Hopefully, the days of the glittery brooding vampire will come to an end and the creatures can return to their roots. Not necessarily the Count ‘I vant to suck your blood’ roots, but at least to where vampires were badasses. Twilight fans beware, Daybreakers is on the way and Edward Cullen stands no chance against these bloodsuckers. They’re fierce, they’re powerful and incredibly hungry. Mind your jugular because Daybreakers is a wild ride packed with innovation, blood and a whole lot of fun.
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After earning a number of Oscar nominations and a handful of wins working with director Elia Kazan on A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) and Baby Doll (1956), it made sense that Tennessee Williams would write a third screenplay for the two to bring to life. The problem is, there’s really nothing to bring to life in The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond. Perhaps someone realized the trouble back when Williams first completed the script, because Kazan opted to move onto other projects leaving The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond on a shelf collecting dust. Not even a super-powered Shop-Vac could clean this screenplay of its cobwebs. The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond is dated and further flawed by plain old poor filmmaking.
The other day I had the pleasure of seeing Precious. Well, some pleasure. Thanks to the heart wrenching content it’s difficult to call the movie pleasurable, but the thing that made my blood boil were the last two people who waltzed in five minutes into the film chatting up a storm. You’re late and you’re going to talk as though the movie hasn’t even started? Making matters worse, these two women continued to chat throughout the entire film. I hope your conversation was more important than this poor girl’s attempt to overcome sexual and physical abuse to get an education and take care of her children.
Avatar opened in midnight screenings early Friday, and fans leaving those screenings generally seemed to agree that the movie was worth the wait, the epic runtime and the massive budget.
It’s always a challenge to accurately portray a particular character. The actor must appease the expectations of the director, the writer and the producers. Yes, he or she must also gain the approval of the audience, but that’s after the fact. In the case of a period piece, the actor must think beyond the filmmakers and consider the approval of any administrations involved, having the character resonate with unfamiliar foreign audiences and, most importantly, having an in depth knowledge of who this figure really was in every facet.
I tend to avoid costume period dramas. I find them tiresome to the point that British English sounds more like Chinese than the dialectic most similar to American English. It goes in one ear and out the other as my mind dissolves into oblivion. The same thing happens to you? I’m not surprised considering the rotten reception this genre of film typically gets in the U.S. But I implore you, rethink your preconceived notions and give The Young Victoria a chance. Yes, it’s talky and stately, but it has a degree of humanization making it far more enjoyable and relatable than others of its kind.
Legendary playwright Tennessee Williams had a magical relationship with director Elia Kazan. They collaborated on both Baby Doll and A Street Car Named Desire, the first of which was nominated for four Academy Awards and the second, nominated for 12, winning four. The plan was to reunite for a third film, which Williams called The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond, but when Kazan attended to other projects, the concept dissipated.
Cheryl Hines’ path to the director’s chair is as far from conventional as you can get. She couldn’t even afford to train with the improvisational troupe, The Groundlings. For her birthday, her friends and the regulars at the bar she was working at, chipped in and paid for her very first class. A short while later, Hines auditioned for the show that would make her a household name, Curb Your Enthusiasm.
My least favorite idiom is, by far, the concept of the double-edged sword. Why can’t someone ever just wholeheartedly enjoy something? There always has to be downside. Well, this whole roller derby thing has officially developed into a double-edged sword. I’m still obsessed and having a blast, but I just found out that the tryouts are capped at 100 girls and no more than 15 will make it. Shit. I think I’m good, but I don’t know about that good.