Carmody trashes Clark

“Quite frankly, his bad studio pictures really hurt him. He squandered all the good will from Porky’s and A Christmas Story. But he just loved the process. It was in his blood. He loved storytelling …he wasn’t subtle. It’s going to be a sadder place without him.” — The late Bob Clark‘s former producing partner Len Carmody speaking to the Toronto Star‘s Peter Howell.

Can you believe this friggin’ Carmody guy? 36 hours after the death of a former partner — a guy he knew and liked! — and he’s calling him “unsubtle” and a maker of “bad studio pictures.” HE hot-heads, start your engines! Slap him around, tear him a new one, etc.

Swanky the Reap

This is a very old and creaky thing to say, but one thing you’ll never hear an actor or actress say is, “I did this film because I was offered a lot of money and I never had a shot at any hefty straight-paycheck roles until I won the Oscar, and my agent said to me, as I’m sure all agents say to all Oscar- winning actor clients, ‘Now’s the time to cash in.

“‘Popularity is promised to no actor,’ he said. ‘Memories are short and windows of opportunity are small, so get it while you can.’ So I got it. Took it, I mean.

“We all know what kind of film this is. It’s a slick piece of pandering pseudo- religious crap. But there’s a way to talk positively and enthusiastically about it — have you heard the b.s. I’ve been slinging with interviewers? And don’t get all judgmental. Not everything you do in life can be Boys Don’t Cry or Milliion Dollar Baby. Sometimes you take the paycheck because the script’s not too bad and the dialogue is decently written and the price is right.

“So you just hold your nose and jump in and do your best while developing your own stuff as best you can, and you hope that it won’t be too long before you get lucky again. But if you want to live well you had to be well paid, and we all know what that occasionally entails.”

Does that sound weird or grasping? Not to me, it doesn’t. Sometimes you take a job because it seems like a good way to go at the time, given what you;re looking to achieve.

Harvey Weinstein and concrete

The problem with Easter weekend is that people in the red-state hinterlands tend to stay away from movies on Easter Sunday (i.e., being into chocolate Easter bunnies, Christian tradition and trying to fortify Ozzie and Harriet family-community values), and that’s why Are We Done Yet?, Black Book and Firehouse Dog opened on Wednesday and The Reaping opened on Thursday.

Some people feel Harvey Weinstein made a mistake not putting Grindhouse into theatres on Wednesday also. (He’s cheap on advertising; a phrase I heard about Harvey is that “money goes through his hands like concrete.”) Grindhouse is tracking decently — the expectation is that it’ll take in roughly $20 million in 2,624 theaters).

Levy on good-bad cinema

“I have never believed there’s such a thing as a movie that is ‘so bad, it’s good,'” writes Oregon Live‘s Shawn Levy. “It’s a core tenet for me that photography, editing, screenwriting and acting are forms of art, and I get no more pleasure out of seeing them done badly than a restaurant reviewer does from a meal that leads to food poisoning. It’s why I don’t watch daytime TV. Or Joel Schumacher films.

“I remain in the camp of Louis Armstrong or Duke Ellington or whoever it was who first said, ‘There’s only two kinds of music — good and bad. I like good.’ And for the time being, I’m satisfied to let other folks dig through the detritus to find the good. Happy hunting, and write if you find worth.”

“Grindhouse” rehash

Grindhouse opens today so I’m rehashing four basic points I covered in my 3.24 review: (a) a sleazy double-feature in the style of late-’60s exploitation flicks, it samples and comments upon a long-dead genre without really “being” anything itself except for a slick showcase of hip-guy-filmmaker attitudes; (b) still, for a film that runs just over three hours (i.e., 184 minutes) it’s a live-wire, better-than-okay ride and well worth the $10 bucks plus parking.

The problem (c) is that it starts with a semi-dud (Robert Rodriguez‘s Planet Terror, a tired, gloppy and mostly groan-worthy zombie movie except for Rose McGowan‘s pistol-hot action scenes with her prosthetic machine-gun leg) that you have to sit through in order to get to the really good one, which is Quentin Tarantino‘s Death Proof; and (d) amped with a great Kurt Russell performance (half Hickey in The Iceman Cometh, half hot-rod death demon), Death Proof is a sexy, sassy hot-chick flick boasting one of the most exciting, non-CG car-chase sequences in cinema history.

Road thrills

At least one other guy agrees with a passage in my 3.24 Grindhouse review that the Death Proof road finale is “one of the most exciting car-chase sequences in cinema history.” I’m speaking of Wall Street Journal critic Joe Morgenstern, whose review (out today) says that Grindhouse contains “the most thrilling car chase ever committed to film.” And the thing that makes it really wail is that none of the road thrills are CG’ed.

Seven-Minute Sopranos

This “Seven-Minute Sopranos” YouTube thing is very nice. It’s been up for four or five days and everyone’s on it. Written (and narrated?) by Paul Gulyas and edited by Joe Sabia. Man, James Gandolfini sure used to be slimmer and have more hair. Little A.J. was really tubby in the old days, and Meadow was no slender reed herself.