I was searching this morning for my March 2000 Tony Curtis interview, which was written during my Reel.com period (’99 to ’02). Not only has the Curtis piece disappeared, but the whole Reel.com archive (when the column was called Hollywood Confidential) has vanished along with it. A Site Called Fred had archived my 300-or-so columns, but now they’ve apparently dumped them. Three years of work down the toilet…great.

The legendary Tony Curtis — the nervy, blunt-spoken Bronx street guy who had a great movie-star run from 1952 to 1968 or thereabouts — died of a heart attack last night about 9:25 Pacific. He was 85, and had lived a hell of a life — about 16 years at the top, and then a long active sunset that lasted 42 years.

Curtis was a decent painter, a raconteur, a legendary hound in his day (“I fucked Yvonne DeCarlo!) and an excellent fellow to hang and shoot the shit with.

In early ’00 I was Curtis’s temporary journalist “pal”. I liked him personally, knew all his good films, could recite a few of his memorable lines over they ears. I think the feeling was mutual. I wrote a good Reel.com piece about him called “Cat in a Bag” in March 2000.

Around the same time I arranged a meeting between Curtis and the staff of Falco Ink, so named as a tribute to Sydney Falco, Curtis’s legendary Sweet Smell of Success character. I once introduced him to my father, who gave him a book about Samuel Johnson. I once brought my mother and sons to a screening of Some Like It Hot at the American Cinematheque, and during his remarks to the crowd Curtis spotted me in the crowd and said, “Hi, Jeffrey.”

I told him once about my then 11 year-old son Jett wanting to dye his hair blue, and Curtis said, “Let him wear his hair blue…he’s a kid, so what? He’ll wear it blue and then he’ll move on to something else.” My ex-wife Maggie, who was voicing stern disapproval Jett about the hi, “You tell Tony Curtis to mind his own business!”

Here‘s an HE piece called “Curtis Burns On.”

“Tony Curtis’ Hollywood heyday is long gone,” I once wrote in my Reel.com column, “but there’s no mistaking the fact he’s always embodied a certain pugnacious cool [that’s] as palpable today as it was when Curtis was starting to come into his own as a serious actor, in the late 1950s.

“Forget all the cruddy movies he’s made over the last 20 years. And forget his smooth-talking seducer-stud roles, which he began playing in the early ’60s in big-studio disposables like Sex and the Single Girl, Boeing Boeing, The Great Race, and Not with My Wife, You Don’t!

“I’m talking Sidney Falco cool. A pensive, anxious, urban quality. You can see shades of it in Curtis’ saxophone-playing Joe in Some Like It Hot. In his performances in Lepke, The Outsider, The Defiant Ones, The Great Impostor. But especially noticeable in the erstwhile Mr. Falco — a profoundly scummy New York press agent he played in the blistering 1957 drama Sweet Smell of Success.

“Bluntness, ambition, class resentment, latent anger — these are fires that have always burned within Curtis, the man.

“I had coffee with the 74-year-old actor in March 2000, and it seemed to me they were still there. Their manifestation in Sidney Falco, when these stored-in-the-gut feelings were riper and more intense, made for a perfect match — the sort of synchronicity that happens once in a blue Hollywood moon.”

The only negative feeling I have about Curtis is that quote he gave to Fox News guy Bill McCuddy in early ’06 dissing Brokeback Mountain. He said “he hadn’t yet seen Brokeback Mountain and had no intention of doing so,” and claimed that other Academy members in his peer group felt the same.

“‘This picture is not as important as we make it,” Curtis said. “It’s nothing unique. The only thing unique about it is they put it on the screen. And they make ’em [gay] cowboys.’ Howard Hughes and John Wayne wouldn’t like it.’

With that quote, Curtis became (in my head, at least) the figurehead spokesperson for the Academy’s homophobic geezer faction, whose votes against Brokeback led to Crash winning the Best Picture Oscar.

“Here’s the final stretch from my March 2000 Reel.com interview piece:

“Today, there’s a wariness in Curtis. Something itchy, cautious, pent-up. I’ve noticed this in actors before. It means there’s all kinds of energy (rude, vulnerable, or otherwise) looking to get out, but they need the unreality of playing someone else to find the right pitch for it.

“I wouldn’t call Curtis pretentious or posturing. He’s likable, affable. He’s still looking to be flattered (as all actors are), but he doesn’t hesitate to make fun of himself, or admit to past failings or weaknesses.

“We met last Sunday at the Beverly Glen shopping center, just south of Mulholland Drive. I waved to him above the heads of several customers sitting outside a popular, packed delicatessen. Curtis waved me over and led me to the inside of a less-crowded Starbucks — fewer people, fewer stares.

“When he ordered coffee for both of us, the woman at the counter insisted on charging nothing. A small tribute to the legend. ‘Really?’ he said to her. ‘Well, thank you so much!’

“We talked about everything — politics, drug-dependency (Curtis had difficulties in this area during the ’80s), Burt Lancaster, old Hollywood, his website (tonycurtis.com, a venue for selling his paintings), women, new technologies, etc.

“He says there’s a large billboard of his youthful image near the corner of Sunset Boulevard and the 101 Freeway — painted by a local artist, he says. A nice little ego boost…or maybe a hint that things are coming around and old man Curtis might be in play again.

“At one point, I handed Curtis a list of his 120 films and asked him to check those he’s genuinely proud of. He checked a total of 18. He didn’t check The Vikings. He didn’t check The Outsider. He checked Houdini. Every film he made after Spartacus in 1960 up until 1968’s The Boston Strangler, he didn’t check. He checked his role as a pair of mafiosos — Louis ‘Lepke’ Buchalter in 1975’s Lepke and Sam Giancana in the 1986 TV movie Mafia Princess.

“Among his ‘notable TV guest appearances,’ Curtis checked only one — the voice role of ‘Stony Curtis’ in a 1965 episode of The Flintstones.

“Curtis looks good for his age. He’s had the usual touch-ups. His teeth are perfectly white. His features are naturally weathered, but more like a man 15 to 20 years younger. His eyes have a bright, inquisitive gleam. (I’ve seen a lot less of this quality in people 30 and 40 years younger.) He has a slight pot belly. His legs are well-toned. He has a cheerful smile. ‘Thank God at my age, I’m not sick,’ he says.

“But all the applications and polishings and youthful attitudes in the world can’t make time run more slowly.

“‘Can I tell you a story, Jeffrey?’ he said, about halfway through our talk. ‘In 1948, when I was 23 or 24, when I first came out here I lived in a house on Fountain Avenue. I rented a room there. And they had a swimming pool. I had an appointment and I got on a trolley car…they were running right down the middle of the freeway back then.

“‘Then I got back, I jumped into the pool, I took a shower, got dressed and got into the car, and drove up here to meet you. That’s how quick these 50-fucking-two years have gone…quick as that.'”

“In two weeks I’m starting Whit Stillman‘s new film, called Damsels in Distress,” Greta Gerwig has told WWD. “I play a girl named Violet who runs a suicide-prevention center at a liberal arts college. She prevents suicides through the powers of 1930s song-and-dance numbers. So it’s a very dark comedy. I’m not really worried about my indie cred. I don’t think there’s any danger of me going, ‘I only do franchises now.'”

I ran my first “return of Whit Stillman” piece on 12.13 09, basing it on a screening of Metropolitan at 92YTribeca.

Fandango is reporting that as of 11 am today, The Social Network ticket sales accounted for only 32% of the total. This doesn’t indicate an opening in the mid to high 20s, which is what I’ve been hearing over the last three or four days, but closer to the low 20s.

“If it was selling 50% to 60% of the total right now, we’d be looking at the mid to high 20s,” an analyst just told me. “But a lot of openings have been mild recently. Wall Street 2 only did $19 million or thereabouts, so I wouldn’t forecast too high a figure for Social Network — I’d pull back a bit.”

I know, I know — how can a movie with this much media hype and a 100% Rotten Tomatoes rating be looking at a weekend tally of this size? Answer: the lowbrow sector is unsure, skeptical, holding back, a little intimidated, not sensing that “olly, olly, in come free” emotional commonality thing. I don’t mean to sound snide, but how else to explain a projection in the low 20s?

In Planet of the Earth terms, The Social Network is a movie about orangutans that was made by orangutans, and which is aimed at an orangutan and chimp audience. What Fandango is telling us is that so far the gorillas haven’t gotten on board.

As totally expected, and as I predicted on 9.25, N.Y. Press critic Armond White has panned The Social Network.

The Social Network “is simply Hollywood’s way, post-Obama, of sanctioning Harvard’s ‘masters of the universe’ mystique,” he writes. “It’s an attempt at glorifying a contemporary aristocracy-cumplutocracy through flattery of Zuckerberg and his ilk. Like one of those fake-smart, middlebrow TV shows, the speciousness of The Social Network is disguised by topicality. It’s really a movie excusing Hollywood ruthlessness.

“Here’s the truth: Citizen Kane was not about a brat’s betrayal, but about a sensitive braggart’s psychological and philosophical shift inward. The Social Network is more like Hollywood’s classic film industry self-romance The Bad and the Beautiful. Yet that Kane-lite film never excused its bad-boy protagonist’s sins and ended magnanimously by converging his three injured parties’ points of view into one beautifully clarifying narrative. It admitted our cultural compromises; this is TV-trite. In The Social Network, creepiness is heroized.”

TSN “excuses” the sins of its Mark Zuckerberg character?

I need help in trying to identify the submitted Best Foreign Language hopefuls that have a decent chance of being included on the short list. I know Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu‘s Biutiful has to be on it…c’mon. And that star Javier Bardem (winner of Best Actor prize in Cannes) should be included among the Best Actor hopefuls, and that it ought to qualify for Best Screenplay, Cinematography (Rodrigo Prieto), Musical Score (Gustvao Santaolalla) and Editing (Stephen Mirrione).

After that I’m more or less lost. Adrift. Looking for guidance. Because I really don’t know very much.

Possible frontrunners: Rachid Bouchareb‘s Outside The Law (Algeria), Danis Tanovic‘s Cirkus Columbia (Bosnia and Herzegovina), Susanne Bier‘s In A Better World (Denmark), Xavier Beauvois‘ Of Gods and Men (France), Feo Aldag‘s When We Leave (Germany), Jacek Borcuch‘s All That I Love (Poland), Oliver Schmitz‘ Life Above All (South Africa).

Help.

HBO and BBC Worldwide Production has working to develop Trent Reznor‘s Year Zero, a 2007 Nine Inch Nails album, into a miniseries based on the album’s premise about a right-wing Christian takeover of the U.S. government.

Which, if it happens, could one day be shown alongside with Jack Webb‘s Red Nightmare, an early 1950s short film about a Communist takeover of the U.S.

By the time I interviewed Arthur Penn in 1981, during a press junket for Four Friends, he was over. Let’s face it — he had about a 15 year period (’61 to ’76) when he was really crackling. He had a great start doing live TV in the ’50s, and kept his hand in as far as it went after The Missouri Breaks, his last half-decent film. And now he’s passed on.

My favorite Penn film after the classic Bonnie and Clyde is Mickey One — an interesting failure — an arty noir thing — with some brilliant scenes and a offbeat nouvelle vague-ish mood. I love the opening scene in the steam bath with Warren Beatty in the bowler and the laughing fat guys.

Penn stumbled with The Left-Handed Gun (’58), his first Hollywood feature, but then he scored big-time with The Miracle Worker (’62). Mickey One (’65) was an interesting experiment, and The Chase (’66) was a reasonably compelling southern melodrama. Then came his masterpiece (or rather his and Beatty’s masterpiece) Bonnie and Clyde (’67) — one of the greatest films of the 20th Century.

The engaging Alice’s Restaurant (’69) followed, and then Little Big Man (’70), and Night Moves (’75 — “like watching paint dry”) and finally The Missouri Breaks (’76). And then it was over. Not a bad run.

Arthur Penn celebrated his 88th birthday two days ago. He was born on 9.27.22.

Scott Brown‘s Wired piece about The Social Network backstory is catchy and well-written, etc., but the real grabber is the art — i.e., the illustrations by Martin Ansin. (Thanks to Awards Daily‘s Sasha Stone for the tip.)

I was chuckling yesterday about that “Mark Zuckerberg: Creator of Facebook” comic book, but if the illustrations in this Bluewater Productions comic are as good as Ansin’s, (and if the writing was as punchy as it should be), I think I’d buy it.

The idea is for HE readers to come up with overly emphatic 1950s-era tag lines — shock! shame! defiance! never before in Hollywood history! — for present-tense films like Let Me In, The Social Network, Wall Street 2, The Town, Easy A, Case 39, Due Date, Nowhere Boy, It’s Kind of a Funny Story, etc. If you don’t know the shot with these films then please don’t submit. (Original idea inspired by this Film Experience riff about tag lines for 1950s Susan Hayward films.)

In a 9.28 DP30 interview, Client 9 director Alex Gibney explains, as his film does, that former call girl and current N.Y. Post advice columnist Ashley Dupre “did” former N.Y. Governor Eliot Spitzer exactly once. She was not his girl of choice — that role was filled by another prostitute called “Angelina.”

“You think Ashley is ‘the one‘, [but] Ashley is kind of like the woman who happened to be on call that night, or that afternoon,” Gibney says. “She’s like a sub who came off the bench, probably because Angela wasn’t available. She happened to be the one who’s on the wiretap. She’s not the one but she’s always played it like she’s the one, always deflecting, ‘it’s a legal issue, I cannot answer’ but always engaging people that she was Spitzer’s girl She was not Spitzer’s girl.

“She’s very interested in advancing her career as a celebrity and as a singer. Fox News and the N.Y. Post are very interested in using that desire for celebrity to use it to advance their agenda, which is to discredit Eliot Spitzer. It’s funny how celebrity gets used. Celebrity is a bizarre form.

“Ashley tried to play me,” Gibney recalls. “We had many email and text conversations with Ashley, and [I] negotiated wth many managers — she went through a lot of them — and we almost had a deal, but then her lawyer insisted on editorial control. I was not wiling to give Ashley Dupre editorial control.”

Two days ago L.A. Times guy Steven Zeitchik reported that Black Swan director Darren Aronofsky has “had discussions” with Superman-reboot producer Chris Nolan, This is a terrible, terrible, terrible idea. If this story (if true) doesn’t represent a diseased equation — i.e., acclaim and success from the making of a brilliant psychological thriller puts you on the short list to direct a bloated franchise flick about a superhero character whose time has totally passed and who means nothing to everyone — I don’t know what does.