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In 1976 Werner Herzog hypnotized his cast of actors and directed one of the strangest narrative films in the history of cinema, Heart of Glass. Alan Greenberg, then a young writer, aspiring filmmaker, and Herzog disciple, was on the set, and thirty-odd years later he, and Herzog, would like to tell you all about it. Hence, Every Night the Trees Disappear: Werner Herzog and the Making of “Heart of Glass” (Chicago Review Press).
Continue reading "Meanwhile, on the Filmmaker Magazine Blog" »
Not too long ago Duane Kelly wrote about seeing John Hurt on stage in Samuel Beckett's Krapp's Last Tape.
Some kind soul posted on YouTube a film adaptation of the play, directed by Atom Egoyan and starring Hurt. It's simply incredible. Egoyan's camera does not get in the way here, and neither does his editor. The director lets the actor do his job, and we are all better for it. See for yourself.
Catching up on the first season of Smash on my DVR reminded me of what I loved about an altogether different writerly actorly theatrically magical series set in New York City. I'm thinking of Sex And The City. That show eventually found its center as an extended love letter to our hometown. In a very different way, it seems to me that Smash is shaping up to be an extended piece of hate mail to showbiz.
I'm not sure the choice (hate vs. love) can ever be consciously made when putting a show together but in retrospect it certainly does impact how audiences will feel about watching. Most of the latter episodes of Sex And The City left me wanting to run out and soak it all in. Most episodes of Smash (so far) leave me craving a long hot shower. There's something icky about the vanity and backstabbing on display. Does it not speak volumes about a story when its most fully-realized three-dimensional character is a neurotic, entitled movie star (played brilliantly by Uma Thurman, by the way)?
Continue reading "Existential Question for TV Show Runners: Love Letter or Hate Mail?" »
The other day, as I ranted to a friend about the state of the economy and my unemployed status, I remembered a commercial that aired in 1971, when I was a wee-little boy. Here it is!
I once heard a talk by the Artistic Director of one of the country’s largest and most respected children’s theatres. One of the great benefits of writing for kids, he said, was the response of the audience. “For children,” he said, “theatre is not an aesthetic experience. It’s just an experience.”
Those words came to mind after I saw the Broadway revival of Death of a Salesman last month. However great most theatrical experiences are – thrilling or funny or heartbreaking – they usually are, for me, aesthetic experiences. I have an amazing time, leave the theatre elated, and relish it for days afterward. This production of Death of a Salesman, however, felt qualitatively different. It wasn’t like I’d seen something. It was like something had happened to me.
My "Top 100 Sitcom Episodes of All Time" project is proceeding (now up to No. 47), but I seriously underestimated how much time it would take — something that I suspect a lot of E.C. contributors can understand. A big time suck is finding screen shots from each episode to accompany my blog posts. Fussing over the right look is a great way to put off writing.
Now I'm experimenting with Pinterest as another form of procrastination, but it's actually helpful in arranging my posts so that they're easier to browse. See the gallery of "Top 100 Sitcoms" here. Has anyone else found Pinterest useful as an organizing tool?
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