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David Poland

By David Poland poland@moviecitynews.com

DP/30 – Cannes 2010 – The Myth of the American Sleepover

The first American film invited to screen in Critics’ Week at Cannes, writer/director David Robert Mitchell’s The Myth of the American Sleepover may not be on your radar yet, unless you were at SXSW, where it premiered.
Here’s a trailer…

Here’s our conversation…
americansleepover490.jpg
And here’s a mp3 of the interview

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16 Responses to “DP/30 – Cannes 2010 – The Myth of the American Sleepover”

  1. LexG says:

    How does this dude have a nice car?
    My car is from 1990.
    Come to think of it, the #1 MYSTERY OF LOS ANGELES is how every Easter Bloccer who moved here six weeks ago and lives 12 to an apartment somehow drives a brand-new Lexus or Beemer, yet sadsacks who work in postproduction and make 50K all drive 20-year-old American beaters.
    Somebody give this fucker a Ford Tempo and wipe that smile off his face.
    Life sucks dick.

  2. Uhh…he’s in the passenger seat so that’s probably not his car. Anyway….
    I’m really looking forward to this film. James Laxton who shot our film (The Violent Kind) shot it and it’s supposed to be really great. Talk about a little engine that could…SXSW 2 months ago, welcome to Cannes now. Pretty cool!

  3. The Big Perm says:

    Well, if someone is living 12 in an apartment they’re probably paying like 100 dollars a month on rent, so then they can afford a nice car.

  4. This film is gorgeous, fantastic, and deserves the slot at Cannes. The director is also an insanely nice guy, be sure.
    And a used Mitsubishi Eclipse convertible doesn’t cost $70,000 the last time I checked. Easily the most bizarre comment thread I’ve ever read.

  5. Variancefilms, meet Lex G. It’s all downhill from here.

  6. LexG says:

    Don Lewis, you know what you can do? Get the dick.
    That car costs a fucking fortune. I’ll go farther:
    ANYONE who doesn’t drive American is a straight-up ASSHOLE. Buy a fucking Chevy and support your country, you fucking traitors. I HATE that I drive around L.A. and NOBODY drives American. Foreign cars STEAL JOBS from your countryman. Support your friggin’ country.
    PLUS it is an ETCHED IN GRANITE FACT that ANYONE who drives a BMW is ALWAYS an asshole, and almost always a RECKLESS, ARROGANT DRIVER. There is no clearer calling card for “asshole” on this planet than a BMW. Except maybe a PRIUS. Fuck the environment, ain’t gonna happen in your lifetime anyway.
    Second, I DEFY YOU to tell me how ANYONE buys a new OR USED CAR as an adult. With rent or mortgage, billz, etc, shouldn’t “car” be the LAST THING on anyone’s list? Only in fucking L.A. do a bunch of poor motherfuckers sit around with ROOMMATES so they can drive a nice car. Of course, I’m well aware that women WILL NOT bang a guy who drives a 1990 American car…
    But as always, what does that say about women and their quality of character?

  7. storymark says:

    Are you trying to make “get the dick” your new catch-phrase or something, Lex? If so…. keep looking. That one’s pretty lame. Though on second thought, that does make it pretty appropo.

  8. LexG says:

    It’s a D12 song, homo.

  9. storymark says:

    And what’s an Easter Bloccer? Is that like…. a condom for bunny rabbits?

  10. storymark says:

    My god lex, for someone with such massive fucking issues with women and obvious over-compensation…. you might consider something other than “you’re gay” comebacks once in a while. You know, mix it up a little. When you fixate, you making it waaaaay too obvious.

  11. bmcintire says:

    Jesus H. Christ, Lex.
    1) It’s not that nice of a car (take a look at the crackling leather on the driver’s seat – in which he is NOT sitting).
    2) American cars have sucked for a very long time and are only recently turning that around. Of course, pay no mind that many foreign models are also manufactured here (in part or whole) in the US.
    3) Those “eastern-blocs” are leasing those luxury cars. Or to be more exact, their parents are leasing them for them.
    4) If you can afford a mortgage, you can afford a car. The more pertinent question is how does anyone afford a fucking house out here?

  12. LexG says:

    Storymark, UNLIKE YOU, I came up hard on THE STREETS, where questioning someone else’s masculinity is the easiest and most awesome kind of diss. I’m like a rapper. Doesn’t speak to any homophobia or any point of view on the matter. I’m just calling you out as a mark-ass buster.
    On topic, is this movie related to the AWESOME “Sleepover,” a cornerstone of my DVD collection?

  13. lazarus says:

    I disagree with almost all of what Lex said here, but he’s right that 99% of the time, BMW = asshole. Straight up.
    And that reminds me of a joke one of my father’s friends told me when I was very young:
    Q: What’s the difference between a BMW and a porcupine?
    A: On a porcupine, the pricks are on the OUTSIDE.
    As Lex would say, GOOD JOKE.

  14. The Big Perm says:

    Fuck off!

  15. storymark says:

    “UNLIKE YOU, I came up hard on THE STREETS,”
    Then how’d you wind up such a sad, whiny little half-a-man? I know toddlers with more sack.

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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

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There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

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My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
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