Don’t Breathe gets a little less interesting as it proceeds to its inevitable conclusion, but it works so well up to that point that your…
Most people who are on the road all the time seem to be running from something. Willie Nelson seems to be looking for it. One of his best friends says Willie can't be happy for long unless he's going somewhere -- by plane, car, train, bus, foot; it doesn't matter, just as long as he's in motion. One recent rainy day, Willie flew out of Austin, Texas, and spent some time in Chicago, and later that night laid his head to rest in New York City.
PROVINCETOWN, Mass. -- Not far down the street there has been a bloody fist fight, two men pounding each other senseless over a woman, blood on the sidewalk, the police involved, but Norman Mailer hardly hears of it, he is so engrossed in the movie he is directing.
NEW YORK"For years, all I had were a bed, a desk and a chair," Tom Cruise said. "When I was making a movie, they put me in hotel rooms. Between jobs, I moved back into my apartment, and my lifestyle dropped considerably."
If you want to understand David Lynch, maybe the place to start is with his paintings. He paints in a style he describes as "bad primitive art," and says that one of his paintings works if you feel the desire to sink your teeth into it.
This was the kind of night a movie star's life is made of, a lonely, chill and windy night in a vacant lot somewhere in the middle of a strange city. Sean Connery said he rather enjoyed such nights. We were down near the corner of 46th and Calumet, on Chicago's South Side, where a film crew had rented a building to shoot some scenes for a movie.
If Rock Hudson had collapsed in Los Angeles instead of in a Paris hospital, he would have died with all of his secrets still intact.
CANNES, France -- It may help if you pause a moment, just at the outset of this article, to hum a few bars of the theme from "A Man and a Woman."
NEW YORK -- Eric Roberts has an agent who lives nine stories above Seventh Avenue, near Times Square, in one of those old brick buildings filled with the offices of private eyes and mysterious import-export operations.
Sid Vicious was angry most of the time about something, but this night he was particularly mad because he was a f - - -ing rock 'n' roll star and Malcolm McLaren had him on rations of eight pounds a week -- about $14. We were in Russ Meyer's rented car, driving down the Cromwell Road in London, and Vicious told Meyer to pull over in front of a late-night grocery so he could lay in some provisions.