Obviously Ronan Farrow owns his own history, biology and style choices, but my very first thought upon seeing this vacation photo (seemingly taken on the beach in Baja California) is that he looks a lot like Tatiana. Tell me I’m wrong.
Tatianaagrees: “Haha, yes, there is something :-))”
I would never dispute that Andrew Dominik's Blonde isn't a serious art film. It's intensely dislikable but completely, paradoxically respectable. It can be accused of exaggerating the dark aspects in Norman Jean Baker's life, as Joyce Carol Oates' 22 year-old source novel did, as well as inventing some out of whole cloth. But it was all of a piece -- a pitch-black downer.
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2023 is underway and rolling along, Donald Trump has been out of office for nearly two years, and there's really no reason to delay or pussyfoot around any more. He has to be flattened like a pancake...like a raccoon run over by an 18-wheeler. Charges need to be filed no later than 3.21.23. Sooner would be better.
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I have an idea for a special photo-driven app or website. For a fair fee I will use your photos to create a funeral home lying-in-state photo. I will dress you in a black suit-and-tie or Pope’s robes. Think about it -- nobody ever contemplates their after-death appearance (i.e., how they’ll look when their friends come to pay their respects). Now they can!
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One of the funniest SNL routines from 1979 was “Bend Over, Chuck Berry,” a homophobic but somewhat funny spoof of disco and the Village People in which Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Bill Murray and Garrett Morris, dressed in Village People garb, sang the satiric song.
I’ve tried to find a YouTube clip of this routine for several years, but it’s not accessible. In fact you can’t even buy an audio recording (“this song is not available for free download due to copyright or license restrictions“). It’s presumably been buried because of the anti-gay lampooning, which Lorne Michaels understandably doesn’t want circulating around.
I was beginning to think that Belushi’s hilarious mimicking of fat Liz Taylor choking on chicken bones had also been buried. SNL wouldn’t dare make fun of anyone today because of a weight issue. I found a clip on Reddit (taken from an 11.11.78 broadcast) but it won’t play.
I'm suddenly in the mood to watch some HD versions of those rude, gritty New York City flicks of the late '60s, '70s and '80s. Klute, Panic in Needle Park, The French Connection Serpico, Death Wish, Mean Streets, Dog Day Afternoon, The Taking of Pelham 123, Dog Day Afternoon...that line of country. A version of New York City that no longer exists...gradually replaced starting around 30 years ago...a few remnants here and there but mostly wiped from the hard drive.
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If I remember correctly, Kirk Douglas never once takes his shirt off in Billy Wilder‘s Ace In The Hole (’51). He was well-known, of course, for displaying his brawny physique in Mark Robson‘s Champion (’49), which had made him a star two years earlier. So the Ace in the Hole billboard marketing guy said “fuck it, let’s try and sell this cynical, bitter film about heartless journalism as a Champion reboot.”
Over the last 40 years I’ve naturally assumed that TheVerdict’s opening-credits scene was shot in some Boston-area bar. I don’t know if this is true or not, but I read this morning it was actually shot in 7A, a NYC East Village bar (109 Avenue A) that closed in 2014. Update / correction: The Verdict bar location is 7B (aka Horseshoe Bar) at the corner of 7th Street and Ave. B. Still open for business.
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