Asked by Farley about the most harrowing day to be on set, Nick had an answer ready. “It was the Julianne Moore scene. We had her for four days. The first two days into the shooting it was a very eerie experience. My mother’s dead, as you all may know, and there was a node in my consciousness where I knew I would see Julianne Moore play this role, but also there was another part of me who thought I’d see my mother again.”
“I know you want to go home and cry in your beer,” Arnold said, thanking those who remained after the credits. “So do I.” Instead she submitted, in highly quotable style, to questioning about this singular, perspective-driven interpretation of a well-known story. Her answers were playfully but determinedly pitched against the notion of some stable or authoritative vision for the film: Who really knows why they do the things they do, creatively or otherwise?
But two of the least-known films in the series, The Looking Glass War and The Deadly Affair, are perhaps the most enjoyable and surprising of the bunch. Largely forgotten, they are both, in their own ways, wonderfully evocative of the Cold War era, and while stylistically and narratively they couldn't be more different, they share some of le Carré's most essential enduring themes. And of course, nearly everyone gets screwed over.
It's usually Peter Sellers who gets credit for the great slapstick timing of the Pink Panther movies. But they also owe much to director Blake Edwards.
"Do The Reggae," a film festival launched by BAM Cinematek that starts tonight and runs throughout the coming weekend, celebrates this period of postcolonial ferment. Scheduled concurrently with the six-night bacchanalia now underway on the island itself in celebration of its 50th year of independence, the 14 films in the series are split between documentaries and features; both are littered with as much struggle as they are halcyon stoner fantasy. Great music is at "Do The Reggae"'s center, and given how much the electro-infused Jamaican music style called dancehall has supplanted the sounds of Marley, Jimmy Cliff, and Toots Hibbert's enduring Maytals, the best films are a worthy time capsule.
If you’ve never seen Glass play his own music, there have been—and will continue to be—a great number of opportunities during this, his 75th birthday year. (But this one is the cheapest!) Even if you have seen Glass perform his music before, this particular concert is one to strongly consider catching. Right now, the composer sounds, well, pretty damn good.
You can trust David Byrne's ear on this one. Mikel Rouse (his first name is pronounced like "Michael") has made dozens of great records since coming to New York. The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts acquired his archive in 2010—making it the easiest place for the public to see video recordings of Rouse's modern operas, like Dennis Cleveland, that have played at Lincoln Center and the Brooklyn Academy of Music in recent decades.
Writer-director Amy Heckerling and her muse Alicia Silverstone discuss 'Clueless,' 'Vamps,' and filming women
On Saturday, both were at BAM for a pair of Q&As with fans; the first following a screening for the new Heckerling-helmed Vamps, which stars Silverstone and Krysten Ritter. The second following a screening of Heckerling's 1995 classic Clueless, which launched Silverstone's career and, judging from the packed theater—audience members cheered, called out lines of dialogue, and audibly gasped when Heckerling revealed she was working on a musical version—remains a cultural touchstone. Both films were being screened as part of BAM’s "Hey, Girlfriend!" series, co-curated by Lena Dunham and the BAM's own Nellie Killian (who also moderated the Q&As), which focused on films that, in Dunham’s words, depict "realistic female relationships … inspiring in their tenacity and unparalleled in their complexity." These Q&As, then, were a chance to get a look at such relationships as they exist offscreen as well.
''Tis Pity She's a Whore,' a bloody, presciently modern work by 17th-century playwright John Ford, opens at BAM
The seventeenth-century English playwright John Ford is currently enjoying a real moment in the New York theater. One month after Theatre for a New Audience staged his bloody tragedy The Broken Heart at the Duke on 42nd Street, another of Ford’s plays has opened in a new production at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. This time, it’s his most famous work, the equally grisly 'Tis Pity She’s A Whore, presented by the British company Cheek by Jowl under the direction of Declan Donnellan.
If matzo balls are the proverbial nice old lady of Jewish cuisine (warm, squishy and endlessly nurturing), then latkes—the golden, lacy-edged potato pancakes eaten during Hanukkah—are the enchanting ingenue. And last night at the third annual Latke Fest and Cook-Off held at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the ingenues were out in full force, holding court amid hundreds of fork-wielding attendees in all of their shimmering, oil-drenched glory.(1)
The Legacy Tour, which presented Roaratorio on Wednesday and a dynamic Program B comprised of Second Hand (1970) and Biped (1999) last night, continues Friday and Saturday night with Program C, which includes Pond Way (1998), Rainforest (1968) and Split Sides (2003). Second Hand, with costumes by Jasper Johns, has no décor, while Split Sides is set to music by Sigur Rós and Radiohead, and Rainforest showcases dancers who move around silver pillows designed by Andy Warhol—each piece is fabulous in its own, original way.
While a couple of his films already been released in America, South Korean filmmaker Kim Ji-woon only really became a major force among film buffs here after the limited theatrical release of The Good, The Bad, The Weird, which pays homage to the “Manchurian Action” subgenre of films that thrived in the late ‘60s in Korea. Manchurian Action films are similar to the spaghetti westerns in that they’re both blatantly revisionist genres. (One of the main characteristics of the Manchurian Action film is the frequent appearance of anachronistic motorcycles and Jeeps.)