Day: May 17, 2024

Most of us have a basic impression about the late Dabney Coleman, who passed yesterday at age 92. Aside from being a dependable, professional-grade character actor, he mostly played sexist jerks, stubborn asshats and comic foils.

But by my scorecard Coleman lucked into at least two interesting characters and did very well by them — (1) “Mayo”, the assistant Olympic ski team coach (subordinate to Gene Hackman) in Michael Ritchie‘s Downhill Racer (’69), and (2) “Dr. Bill Ray”, Jane Fonda‘s sensible, good-natured boyfriend in On Golden Pond (’81).

Mostly, however, he played dicks, and his best-known in this regard were “Ron Carlisle,” the sexist soap opera director in Tootsie (’82) who antagonized Dustin Hoffman‘s “Dorothy” and vice versa and the sexist, jerkwad boss in 9 to 5 (’80). Both were broad, boilerplate performances.

…of ticket buyers don’t regard “insane” (as in unstable, directionless, subject to whim, blown by the wind) as a cinematic virtue.

Most viewers want filmmakers to show a sense of control, discipline, assurance and command.

One of the most unappetizing “crazy” films ever made was and is Philip Kaufman’s Quills (‘00). I hated Geoffrey Rush’s Marquis de Sade, especially when he began using fecal matter with which to paint on prison walls.

I’ll post the official festival video of the just-concluded Megalopolis press confererence when it pops through…sometimes it takes a few hours.

“Admirable Coppola,” posted 2 and 1/3 years ago:

We’re always adapting — all of us, but especially Type-A creative types. Maturing, cranking up, calming down, adjusting, shape-shifting — always in response to a changing world. It follows that no 40 year-old director is exactly the same in terms of craft, choices and sensibility as he/she was at age 30.

I think Francis Coppola (whom I had the pleasure of doing a two-hour phone interview with 41 years ago) was one guy when he made The Godfather, The Conversation and The Godfather, Part II. He was a slightly different guy when he made Apocalypse Now, and a faintly altered version of the Apocalypse Now guy when he made One From The Heart. He was a whole different dude when he made Jack — that’s for damn sure. And a much different guy when he made Tetro, Youth Without Youth and Twixt.

Coppola has said he’s planing to invest over $100 million of his own dough in Megalopolis, which he’s called “a love story that’s also a philosophical investigation of the nature of man.”

It is my prediction that however good or bad it turns out to be, Megalopolis won’t connect with Joe Popcorn. Some will see it (I certainly will) but most won’t, and it’ll just end up as a streaming selection. That said, Coppola is living righteously for an artist who’s nearly 83 — still striving, still dreaming. Here’s hoping he makes Megalopolis and that it satisfies those who are willing to take the journey.

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From David Ehrlich’s 5.16 IndieWire review of Francis Coppola’s Megalopolis: “Madison Square Garden has naturally been reimagined as a sandy colosseum. The exterior shots don’t look anything like the world-famous arena they’re meant to represent, but the interior ones get MSG’s iconic ceiling exactly right.”

Ehrlich was thinking of Manhattan’s current Madison Square Garden, which opened in ’68 and stands on Eighth Ave. between 31st and 33rd, above Penn Station.

Coppola’s version, of course, is based on the funky, gunky older version of the garden, the one that stood on the west side of Eighth Ave.between 49th and 50th streets with the neon Nedick’s sign…the one in which Laurence Harvey shot Angela Lansbury through the head in John Frankenheimer‘s The Manchurian Candidate (’62)…the one in which Terry Malloy took “a dive for the short-end money”…the one in which Marilyn Monroe sang “happy birthday, Mr. President” to JFK in May ’62.

Coppola’s version:

Actual late ‘50s version:

Anya Taylor-Joy‘s Theda Bara-meets-Clara Bow look (i.e., beaded headpiece, heavy eye shadow) plus the cropped jacket and naughtily sticking her tongue out duuring the photo call…great old Hollywood vibes. I didn’t attend the Furiosa press conference — catching up on filing plus an hour-long nap seemed more important at the time.