Wannabe No Waver | Wet Streets Cinema Enthusiast
Big Friday night alone, I flip to channel 848 thinking it's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas already in progress, a perfect movie to throw on in the background while doing other things (just as Terry Gilliam intended). Was very confused for ten to fifteen seconds as I (slower than should have) processed that it was not Court TV's Johnny Depp playing Hunter S. Thompson on my television screen. This was Fear and Loathing in Aspen, apparently, a dramatization of…
Ethan Hawke loves to talk about Peter Weir “casting for the final color.” On the set of Dead Poet’s Society, Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard thought of themselves as miscast for their respective roles–Hawke, a gregarious, cocky shit, playing the shy and self-doubting Todd Anderson. Leonard, an introvert, playing the outgoing Neil Perry–they confided to each other that they would be better off swapping roles. It wasn’t until filming the O Captain! My Captain! scene that Hawke understood what Weir…
It's just the dumbest irony that Cassavetes worked his way up from nothing, scraping whatever acting money he could find, even mortgaged his home, to make personal film after personal film that when looked at as one giant statement ultimately reaches the artistic conclusion that the only thing that matters in the end; is love. Only for that to repeatedly inspire a fucking clown parade of legacy kid dipshits to make movies that consist entirely of couples arguing as a shortcut to being taken serious.
Adult son David Fincher needs help from his dad to craft a cinematic love letter to the Luigi of Citizen Kane, Herman J. Mankieiecz (Oldman), or Mank, as he referred to no less than 700 times in this lifeless cosplay of The Golden Age of Hollywood. The biggest problem with this sort of retro filmmaking is it never truly feels like the era it’s imitating, so you have the biggest stylistic decision destined to fail as the movie will seem…