Wannabe No Waver | Wet Streets Cinema Enthusiast
Ethan Hawke loves to talk about Peter Weir “casting for the final color.” On the set of Dead Poet’s Society, Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard thought of themselves as miscast for their respective roles–Hawke, a gregarious, cocky shit, playing the shy and self-doubting Todd Anderson. Leonard, an introvert, playing the outgoing Neil Perry–they confided to each other that they would be better off swapping roles. It wasn’t until filming the O Captain! My Captain! scene that Hawke understood what Weir…
It's become such a boring cliché to be over the age of 30 and pose the question: Remember when they used to make films for adults? But it's impossible to watch Sea of Love and not think this the entire duration. Ostensibly a cop movie whodunnit, its success as a film comes more from the care in developing truly adult characters with adult problems: Pacino, pushing 50, Barkin pushing 40; their very real anxiety of being middle aged, having nothing…
It's just the dumbest irony that Cassavetes worked his way up from nothing, scraping whatever acting money he could find, even mortgaged his home, to make personal film after personal film that when looked at as one giant statement ultimately reaches the artistic conclusion that the only thing that matters in the end; is love. Only for that to repeatedly inspire a fucking clown parade of legacy kid dipshits to make movies that consist entirely of couples arguing as a shortcut to being taken serious.
Adult son David Fincher needs help from his dad to craft a cinematic love letter to the Luigi of Citizen Kane, Herman J. Mankieiecz (Oldman), or Mank, as he referred to no less than 700 times in this lifeless cosplay of The Golden Age of Hollywood. The biggest problem with this sort of retro filmmaking is it never truly feels like the era it’s imitating, so you have the biggest stylistic decision destined to fail as the movie will seem…