The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Despite the theoretical appeal of seeing these veterans share the screen once more and the colorful costumes and images from the film’s Indian locations, the…
For Gordon Parks, the first black director in the history of the Hollywood film, it all began more than 30 years ago when he was an assistant bartender on the North Coast Limited between Chicago and Seattle.
"You know what this black woman told me today?" Yaphet Kotto said. "She said my movie was the first time in the movies she ever saw a black man take a black woman out on a date. Dinner, romantic music, the whole thing."
She tried to make a good wife for the football coach. She really tried. She went to all the games, even the out-of-town games, and she organized the girls into a cheering section.
A producer of horror films doesn't actually need fangs and little points on his ears, but it would help. He doesn't need to quaff blood at every meal, but...cole slaw? Dishes and dishes of cole slaw? This is a horror movie producer?
I. Tuesday afternoon at Le Bistro, a restaurant in Beverly HillsBEVERLY HILLS, 1972 -- Groucho Marx was wearing blue jeans, Hush Puppies, a brown sport shirt buttoned at the neck, an ancient tweed sport jacket, a cap and a pepper and salt overcoat. He peered into the gloom of Le Bistro, seeking out familiar faces, while a young lady introduced herself to me. “My name is Erin Fleming. I'm Mr. Marx's secretary."
It was a night in New York to hover over a bottle of burgundy, one's elbows on the table and talk of human love, of myth, of decency...and incest. They had not all seemed to belong in the same sentence before tonight, but now - well, "Murmur of the Heart" is not an ordinary film. Hardly.
Lee Marvin said, yes sir, this was a brand new experience. He had made a lot of tours to promote movies - but this was the first tour he'd made sober.
"If we did nothing else, we brought Rasputin into focus" Franklin Schaffner said in a musing sort of voice. "Rasputin wasn't really a mystic. He didn't heal the child through supernatural powers. Perhaps he was simply able to relax the child, and that brought down his temperature. That's my theory . . ."
One of my indelible memories from 1950s television is of Leon Ames, on Life with Father, standing in the midst of a family catastrophe and exclaiming, "Oh, no!" Now the trouble with that line is that it doesn't look like much in print. It doesn't sound like much, either, unless you can remember the way Ames delivered it.