career
If there is any Hollywood star that could be named among the most influential among both adults and children, it would be Robin Williams. As an actor who went from a stand-up comedian in the 1980s to arguably the most beloved star in the film industry, Williams maintained his memorable and popular status among viewers by his diverse performances and his particular choice of films. Sadly, Williams passed away in August 2014 following complications of depression that are still being investigated today.
Have you ever thought to yourself – who is my favourite actor? Whose films do I enjoy the most? What is it about him and his performances that make me enjoy his films the most?
There aren’t many people who can claim that the woman they watched larking about on children’s morning television when they were a toddler also became of one of their favourite film directors as an adult. But that’s exactly what Andrea Arnold turned out to be, for me. For those of you who have never heard of her I can guarantee that you’ll be impressed.
When asked about who his favourite American directors were, Orson Welles replied: “I prefer the old masters; by which I mean: John Ford, John Ford and John Ford.
How to summarise Hayao Miyazaki in a few words? Brilliant, magical, ecologist, fantastic, cultural, wise, a true master of his art: animation.
Near the conclusion of Hellboy II, we find the eponymous hero at death’s doorstep. Hellboy is laid at the feet of his personal Angel of Death, a shrouded, veiled monstrosity whose ragged wings are festooned with a series of enormous, amber eyes. Elizabeth Sherman, Hellboy’s partner, cradles his unconscious body in a pose reminiscent of the Pietà, an aesthetic emphasized by the magical spearpoint thrust into Hellboy’s side.
Earlier this year, while getting all excited for the release of Kingsman, I decided to watch Colin Firth and his still unheard of co-star being interviewed on The Jonathan Ross Show. I think it only took five minutes for me to fall for Taron Egerton. His familiar soft Welsh accent, his charisma, his wit, but also his modesty really touched a chord with me.
How is it that so many people remain unaware of the mighty Roger Livesey? This peerless actor was the centrepiece of many of the finest films in British history. Born in Barry, South Wales in 1906, Livesey is rarely invited into the superclub of immortal Welsh greats like Richard Burton, Anthony Hopkins, Rachel Roberts and Hugh Griffiths.
Producer, Director, Writer, Actor. These are just some of the labels one could attribute to Spike Jonze. Absurd, surreal, unique and diverse are just some of the few one could attach to his films.
David Lynch has one of the most polarizing bodies of work in Hollywood (though he is objectively one of the nicest and most genuine people there). His films divide audiences like they were born of a marriage between Moses and Solomon. Filled with peculiar idiosyncrasies and defiantly flaunting conventions of both genre and narrative, Lynch’s films have been stubborn in their consistency for most of his career.
It was 1962; Grace Kelly was no longer an actress. She was, at this point in her life, ruling the Principality of Monaco with her then husband Prince Rainier III. She had already had two children and another one on the way; the last thing on her mind was making another film.
British director Alfred Hitchc*ck’s reputation as the “Master of Suspense” is still familiar to moviegoers around the world 25 years after his death. Hitchc*ck’s jowly visage and drawling accent are pop culture fixtures, and his movies are endlessly imitated and even spun-off into popular TV series. However, Hitchc*ck was more than just the man who gave the world Norman Bates and that infamous shower scene in Psycho (1960).
When you think of horror movies, one name should spring to mind: Wes Craven. He reinvented the teen horror genre and made it his own, alongside creating the most feared character in the horror genre:
Having recovered from the shock upon discovering that summer 1990 was a quarter of a century ago, I recently reacquainted myself with one or two of the cinematic treats that I first enjoyed at the tender age of 15. Darkman got a repeat viewing, as did the sorely underappreciated Quick Change with Bill Murray. I was especially pleased to find that my personal favourite alumni from the class of ’90 had aged so well:
Have you ever met a person who is simultaneously hot and cold? Beloved and hated? How about celebrated and condemned?
