Is it an abstract? Is it a watercolour? No, it’s a photo of a film. An entire film. A film called A Trip to the Moon, in this case, that was made in 1902.
It’s part of a project, the aptly named Photographs of Films, by London based sculptor and photographer Jason Shulman. Curious as to what might result if he took a long exposure photo of a film as it played, Shulman decided to find out.
And it’s been thirty years since Stand by Me, directed by Rob Reiner, was released. It seems hard to believe, but the film may never have been made, as Stephen King, who wrote the short novel that the screenplay was based on, wasn’t, at first, willing to be involved.
After convincing a reluctant Stephen King to allow them to adapt his novella, “The Body,” for the screen, writers Bruce A. Evans and Raynold Gideon brought the project to AVCO Embassy Pictures, a production and distribution company owned by Norman Lear. For King, who based the story on his own childhood, it was a leap of faith. The horror writer had bad experiences with Hollywood and was unhappy with adaptations of his books “The Shining” and “Christine.”
It’s something I’ve been trying to do just recently, not look at trailers for films I plan to see. Not always possible, as many are played immediately before another film I am about to see, while at the cinema.
Trailers are ruining comedies by including all the funny parts. Seth Rogen: Your movies are funny, and I don’t really need to pay to see them anymore because all the jokes are free in the four Neighbors 2 trailers. Trailers are ruining horror movies by revealing all the scares. Trailers are ruining great movies. Almost all of Sicario’s best scenes are In. The. Trailer. … What?
I will post, however, the trailer for Love & Friendship, a comedy based on the writings of Jane Austen. Trailers should be more like this, arousing curiosity, without revealing too much.
For The Love Of Spock is a documentary about the life of Leonard Nimoy, who is possibly better known to more people as Mr Spock from the original Star Trek TV series, that first aired fifty years ago. Directed by Nimoy’s son, Adam, For The Love Of Spock looks at his work and life.
The trailer is now online, and the film itself is slated for release in early September, this year. It looks like just about everyone who had any involvement with Star Trek, including the later TV series, and movies, will be featured.
How many people would ever wonder, even for an instant, whether the tools and equipment, the papers and the books, they worked with during their lives, would ever end up as part of a museum display, or an exhibition?
I wonder if Stanley Kubrick might have had such a thought? Would he ever have envisaged The Stanley Kubrick Exhibition, currently taking place in San Francisco?
For those of us with an interest in Kubrick and his work though, the show is surely a boon, but if you’re unable to attend, this video tour of the San Francisco show, hosted by Adam Savage, will give you an idea of what it’s about.
Looks interesting, a list of thirty US made films that you may not have heard about, that Taste of Cinema writer Matt Hendricks thinks are worth seeking out, and watching.
Present-day audiences pretty much wait for the next theatrical releases from Tarantino, Scorsese, Fincher, David O. Russell, anything owned by Disney, and anything associated with Batman while ignoring just about everything else out there. Consequently, it’s quite easy to think America’s cinematic culture is quickly going down the tubes. While there’s no denying that it is, it’s just not as quickly or as obviously as one might think. To explain further, there actually isn’t a shortage of good movies out there. In fact, there is such an abundance of them that it has become easier for us to write them off than it is to make the effort, do a little reading, and seek them out.
Yet part of me loves meeting these unknowable visitors, just as I love darting inside a theater midsummer, pretending for two hours that the sun and its demands no longer exist. The mood of the room inducts you to its conspiracy. I would never shush that father and daughter softly discussing what’s onscreen, even the plastic-bag crinklers, because they’ve granted me license, too. When each stranger fades to a half-presence in the darkness, you’re alone with your feelings yet unable to hide them, a reflective exhibitionist. At Manhattan’s long-gone Bleecker Street Cinema, the house cat Breathless would often escape the office and claw its way up the screen, encouraged by cheers.