Posted on March 1, 2012 at 9:45 am in Art, Books, Film, Literature, Writers | RSS feed
I don’t know. I don’t buy it. maybe I don’t.
I like Shepard a lot more in the abstract than I do when I am face to face with him. He’s one of those folks who have a kind of visage, a face, that makes you want to believe every word that comes out of it.
I like his plays a hell of a lot. I do.
Maybe he shares the same kind of unintentional (or crap, maybe it is intentional) self-indulgence that mars Gilbert and Hemmingway and, to an extent, McCarthy.
But you can’t help loving them.
I don’t trust that Shepard really feels all that good about Malick. But what the hell do I know.
I know I do love the idea of Terry shooting that scene of Gere’s face in the water in Sissy Spacek’s aquarium in her living room.
And anyhow, I’d take Shepard at his worst, and Gere, and Malick, Hemmingway, the whole lot of them, over just about anything else the modern world has to offer.
I mean, Pineapple Express is a pretty good movie, but, you know…..
it ain’t a bunkbed made out of a dead Ent, with some hobbits spooning in it late of an evening.
am i right or whut?
There’s a great clip of Christopher Plummer talking about hating working with Malick:
I love that scene at the end of Pineapple Express where they’re like, “We shot a lot of guys back there.” Filmmaking at its finest.
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