Cinema Speculation

by Quentin Tarantino

Apparently McQueen and his costar on that film, Bobby Darin, also couldn’t stand each other. When the fat Hollywood hack James Bacon once mentioned to the Sicilian-tempered Darin that McQueen was his own worst enemy, Bobby replied, “Not while I’m alive.”

Okay, what about Philip Kaufman’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being? Its open sexuality more or less made it to the screen intact. That meant you can do that kind of thing, didn’t it? Yeah, if you made it dull enough. The Unbearable Boredom of Watching.

I considered doing an adaptation of the book in the late nineties, with Robert De Niro as Parker, Harvey Keitel as Cody, and Pam Grier as Bett. And just writing that now makes me wish I would have done it.

holy shit...

The first press clippings (aside from casting announcements) to appear about Flynn’s film were almost all from fat hack James Bacon, who wrote in his syndicated column on Oct 23, 1973, “Saw The Outfit the other night at a cast and crew preview and it’s The Godfather of 1973.” Wow, pretty impressive, huh? But then ask yourself what was James Bacon doing at a cast and crew preview? Because Bacon had a small cameo in the movie, and that was sort of the deal back then. If you stuck James Bacon’s fat ass somewhere in your movie, you could guarantee a few positive notices in his column.

what the hell

I mean, if you bought a ticket to Russ Meyer’s Beyond the Valley of the Dolls you probably had a good idea what you were getting into. But most audiences who bought a ticket to see Deliverance didn’t know they paid money to see Ned Beatty get fucked in the ass.

Bogdanovich talks about the golden age of Hollywood with more authority than any director since François Truffaut. No doubt (at that time) Peter had seen more movies in one year then Altman had seen in his life (does anybody really think Altman watched other people’s movies?).

Stark was one of the biggest producers in town—he was also one of the town’s biggest bullies, and he was responsible for mangling more films than an El Paso drive-in movie projector.

Scorsese has jerked us off so hard throughout the film, now that we’re heading towards the climax, going where the whole movie has always threatened to go, we can’t wait to cum.

It was either shot on 16mm and blown up to 35mm, or it just looks like a 16mm blow up (the interior lighting captures to a tee the Roger Corman cinematography maxim “Get an image”).

So while Siegel took the money and ran on Telefon, and took the money and slept on Rough Cut, Escape from Alcatraz gave him one last artistic erection.

I’m sure at the time of his death Floyd was the only one who still had a copy of it. And whenever he died, wherever he was, it was disposed of with the rest of his meager possessions (the fate of most vagabonds). And whatever trash can it was tossed into was the final resting place of Floyd Ray Wilson’s dream of a black cowboy hero named Billy Spencer. My dream of a black cowboy hero, Django Unchained, was not only read, it was made, by me, into a worldwide smash. A smash that resulted in me winning the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay.

cool