The Maze Runner
What’s intriguing about “The Maze Runner”–for a long time, at least–is the way it tells us a story we think we’ve heard countless times before…
Calling yourself the author of the year's biggest novel,'' Erich Segal said, "is like calling yourself the world's greatest newspaper. It makes it sound like nobody else will say it for you, so you gotta say it for yourself . . . "
NEW YORK -- They said making a movie about Woodstock was like . . . three days without sleep. The cameramen all wired together, with Wadleigh shouting instructions over the earphones. And Don Lenser crying during the Airplane's set, crying because he was right there on top of them, he practically had his camera shoved down Grace Slick's neck, he was practically in her mouth, and all that noise pounding through him, surrounded by banks of loudspeakers - big mothers! - and crying, you could hear him crying over the earphones, crying because he wasn't able to move because he had to hold the goddam camera steady...
Pat Boone (you once made him cry when you said good-by) will be 36 in June, and he wears fancy leather spats these days instead of the white bucks, but his face is still unlined, his eyes are still bright, his voice is still clear and he still keeps the faith.
Alfred Hitchcock waited in a deep chair by the window, like a judge in chambers preparing for a last word with a strangler. The pale morning sunlight struggled into the room and collapsed at his feet. It was a grey morning, a foggy Chicago morning. On such mornings, he said, he is reminded sometimes of the Acid Bath Murders...
The phone rang a week ago and the guy on the other end said he was a movie producer. He was home for Thanksgiving to visit his folks in Evanston, he said, and he thought he'd give me a call. His name was Rick Herland.
"Hey, man, my wife and I were up until 7 this morning, rapping about things," Michael J. Pollard says, lighting a Camel and taking a mouthful of coffee.
Sinking into an overstuffed chair in Studs Terkel's apartment with her legs curled beneath her, Doris Lessing looked small, vulnerable (and in the best sense) catlike. It was Sunday afternoon and she was sipping brandy and listening to stories about Studs' trip to South Africa. And you thought: So this, after all, is Doris Lessing. And the next moment you thought: Of course.
HOLLYWOOD -- A couple of months ago, Mae West sauntered into Arthur Knight's film class at USC, put her hand on her hip, took her time looking around the room, and finally said: "Hello, boys." It was a co-ed class. Somehow, in the context you understand why Mae West is still the most fascinating personality in Hollywood, and why everywhere you go they're telling Mae West stories again.
DINGLE, Ireland — "I never did see 'Secret Ceremony,' to tell you the truth," Robert Mitchum said. "Did Mia call Elizabeth her daddy?" They did some weird things with that script because contractually they had me for 10 days only. They were in trouble when I got there and I don't think I improved the situation any.
LONDON - Richard Burton said, "It's that long hair, that's what it is." He stroked the hair back from the face of Lisa Todd, Elizabeth's daughter, and looked into the girl's eyes. "It's that long hair getting into your eyes." He shook his head, pretending great solemnity. "We'll have to operate," he said. "The left eye definitely has something in it. We'll operate at...ah, four this afternoon, I think. Very serious." Lisa laughed and shook her hair back into her eyes. Burton took her by the hand and led her into his dressing room. "Gonzales is playing again this afternoon at Wimbledon," he said. "Did you see yesterday's match? It was rather better than 'Hamlet' - the old man against the young man."