May 3, 1991 |
Certainly, the weirdest figure to come out of the movies' early-'30's fascination with gangsters has to be Tony Camonte in Howard Hawks' "Scarface: The Shame of the Nation." Played by a twitchy Paul Muni, he had both Edward G. Robinson's Rico Bandello ("Little Caesar," 1931) and James Cagney's swaggering upstart in "Public Enemy" (also 1931) beat on the obsessive/compulsive scale.
November 16, 2012 |
Even the most ardent traditionalists have to acknowledge that vast, sweeping changes are at work within the realm of film culture. The very practice of shooting on actual physical film, not to mention running that film through a projector for viewing, has become in a way a purposeful act of rebellion. And if motion pictures are no longer shot on film, do we still call them films? Is the very name, let alone nature, of the movies now in doubt? In his latest book, "The Big Screen: The Story of the Movies" (Farrar, Straus & Giroux: 608 pp., $35)
HOME & GARDEN
September 7, 2013 |
Strange afternoon, strangely wonderful. For all the things about L.A. that I mock, tease about, sigh deeply over, there are always moments like these, usually in modest surroundings with everyday Joes, that make me wonder if I've finally been reeled in by a city that frequently over-promises. I have long debates with friends over our region's high cost of living, the postage-stamp yards, the monotony of the too-glorious weather. At a dinner party, one buddy insisted that headhunters no longer recruit here because those they hire for out-of-state jobs invariably return to California within a few years.
May 1, 1997 |
It captivated New York and then London as movies with an L.A. imprimatur rarely do, dazzling critics and inspiring dozens of newspaper and magazine stories. Now it's coming back to the town where it all began for an exclusive five-day run. Not bad for a film that's simultaneously more than 50 years old and brand-new.
August 13, 2003 |
The late, great director Howard Hawks was a girl's best friend. Or let's make that an actress' best friend. Though he made a lot of macho films such as "Red River" and the 1932 "Scarface," Hawks excelled in presenting a new type of woman on screen, a gal who could hold her own with any man and had as many dimensions and problems as the male of the species.
May 20, 2007 |
JOHN WAYNE would be turning 100 on Saturday, and to mark the occasion, studios with Wayne titles in their vaults are in the throes of reissue madness. Paramount is releasing a 14-film "centennial collection" and a deluxe edition of "True Grit" (1969), which won the Duke his only Oscar. Lionsgate digs into Wayne's 1940s and '50s work with genre house Republic Pictures and emerges with two themed box sets (war flicks and westerns) and six double-feature discs. Warner Bros.
July 9, 1989 |
"Seventeen-eighteen years old, I was a fan of Lindbergh," says Cubby Broccoli, the producer of 16 James Bond pictures, the most popular film series of all time. The one-time teen-aged truck farmer sips the morning coffee his butler poured for him under blue skies in the interior courtyard of his townhouse just off Fifth Avenue. "I read Lindbergh's gonna try to fly the Atlantic--all alone. The Lone Eagle.
July 27, 1997
Allen Barra's review of Todd McCarthy's book, "Howard Hawks," (Book Review, July 13) contains the following piece of hyperbole: "Howard Hawks liberated American women to the possibilities of life in the second half of the 20th century. If one were to list the most spirited, unconventional female characters in classic American films--Barbara Stanwyck in 'Ball of Fire,' Rosalind Russell in 'His Girl Friday,' Lauren Bacall in 'To Have and Have Not,' Angie Dickinson in 'Rio Bravo' . . . one would see that most of them are from Hawks' films."
April 11, 2011 |
The late Glenn Ford's 8,800-square-foot Beverly Hills mansion has a curious octagon shape that had just one official bedroom -- a huge master bedroom on the main floor. "There are very few right angles in this house," said his only child, 66-year-old Peter Ford, who has lived there with his wife, Lynda, for the last 17 years. They moved in 12 years before Ford's death in 2006 at age 90 to take care of the ailing actor. "The reason was, he didn't want to be fenced in. This house is kind of a metaphor for his life.