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.
And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.
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.
But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”
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.”
~ Hampton Fancher
“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.
~ David Simon
In the last decade or so, the French have become uniquely amazing at crafting mystery-thrillers. You’ve got Tell No One, a great film with heritage in North By Northwest and The 39 Steps. Then you’ve got Dominik Moll, whose Lemming and With a Friend Like Harry are slow-burners that build up incredible tension by the end. Then you’ve got Audiard, whose Read My Lips and The Beat That My Heart Skipped build tension through their uncanny ability to lock into the dark psychological undercurrents in everyday characters. And I also really like Cedric Kahn’s Red Lights, which mixes suspense and macabre humor very effectively.
In other words, very much looking forward to Audiard’s next.
don’t leave out Fred Cavayé with the next three days (anything for her) and point blank
Good call! Yeah, I loved those too.
Tell No One is still one of my favorite (perhaps my overall favorite) thriller of the last decade. Amazing movie.
TELL NO ONE starts out so well, with strong visual storytelling by Canet that sets up an intriguing mystery. By the end, however, it becomes disappointingly formulaic, IMO, with big gulps of exposition and flashbacks. There’s a late twist that makes up for it to a degree, and the performances are superb. I did like it; I just don’t get why some have seen it as the second coming of noir.
I’m surprised that nobody has remade “Tell No One” yet. It seemed like a natural for an American re-boot when I saw it (4 years ago?)
Could the b.o. failure of “Next Three Days” have spoiled it for other French thrillers re: getting the H’wood treatment?
I totally agree with Yancy Skancy on TELL NO ONE, except the school of Scooby Doo/Miami Vice ending kinda ruined the movie for me.
I’d explain what I mean by that, but it would entail major spoilers, and I think it’s pretty clear anyway.
@movieman — Taylor Kitsch IS Mesrine!
That what you’re looking for?
NDB: ???
I can’t quite picture Kitsch in the Vincent Cassel role from those “Mesrine” bios, though I enjoyed them both–especially the first one–very much.
I could, however, envision Ed Norton as the lead in a U.S. remake
of “Tell No One.”
the american novel of Tell No One (harlan corben) has different twist endings than the movie
Loved Tell No One. But i confess it’s always a sign at the end of the movie when one character tells another character the whole back story to leave everyone to fill it in.
But it’s entertaining as hell. And you get naked Marie Jose-Croze so what’s not to love.