Bryan Singer has big shoes, or rather big red boots, to fill. Not only has he abandoned the wildly successful "X-Men" film franchise, not only has he filled a position batted around by Hollywood sluggers (Kevin Smith, Tim Burton, Wolfgang Peterson), but Singer is now tackling one of the most potent American pop culture icons, the Man of Steel, as director of the new Superman film.
A good thriller tends to have a few twists toward the third act to keep the audience on their toes. My work on M. Night Shyamalan's latest film, "Lady in the Water," exhibited these very signs. I was thankful to have learned about my future trade while on a big-budget set, so after three days, I was satisfied.
Just when I thought I was out, M. Night Shyamalan pulled me back in. After two days on the set of his latest effort, "Lady in the Water," I considered myself lucky in two ways. One: to be paid to do something as fun as act. Two: to be alive. By 4 p.m., I had already fallen asleep in my Jazz class and regretted the 3:40 a.
Rain machines on a cold night with a forecast of heavy precipitation do not bode well for actors. So when I waltzed onto the set of M. Night Shyamalan's "Lady in the Water," I turned to my friends from Day One of shooting (Tom, Lou and Chris) and said simply, "I have a bad feeling about this."
Despite my aversion to being starstruck, I was not prepared to be standing next to M. Night Shyamalan on set. Shyamalan (or M as he is simply called by the cast and crew) does not fit the typical mold of an A-list Hollywood director. While he has the authoritative "I'm the boss" look in his eye, he did not rant or rave if things were taking too long.
When I was in high school reviewing new releases for the "Asbury Park Press," I remember seeing M. Night Shyamalan's "Unbreakable" and thinking to myself how uplifting it was that someone so young by the Hollywood standard could go out and make his own films.
It's not every day I get the opportunity to see a film before the rest of the world. Despite having done professional and Signal-related movie reviews, I have never been able to snare advanced screening passes on available days.
The streak came to an end on Sept. 16 when I received tickets to the East Coast advanced screening of the indie flick "Thumbsucker," starring Vince Vaughn, Keanu Reeves, Tilda Swinton and newcomer Lou Taylor Pucci.
Some people enter college dreading it. Others are itching to get started. According to popular knowledge, the career-based odyssey requires infinite amounts of patience and no expectations of pay. The hours are supposedly long, the supervision is difficult and the payoff is substandard.
A long time ago in a country far, far away, a struggling filmmaker looked out at the wreckage of his film set. A sandstorm the night before had torn through the Tunisian landscape, ripping to shreds many of the film's sets. To make matters worse, the director was beginning to miss his California home and wife, the crew was becoming sick with stomach illnesses and budgetary questions were continuing to plague the production.
The film industry has always had an exotic, luxurious aura attached to it. The public is so enamored with the concept of sunny California movie back lots and virgin foreign lands that it often forgets where the American movie business has its roots. Forget Los Angeles.
The temperature is rising and cinema executives across the country are keeping their fingers crossed, hoping that the spring season will come in their favorite shade: green. With very few early heavy hitters in the box office for the first quarter of the year, Hollywood looks to heat things up with a grab bag of big-name stars leading the way.
All that Rodney Copperbottom (Ewan McGregor) wanted was to make his father proud. After the ailing dishwashing droid needs a part replaced, Rodney takes it upon himself to gain the services of big-hearted, big-bottomed boss bot Bigweld, who has mysteriously gone into hiding.
Have you ever felt attached to a person or a movie or a story without having ever seen or interacted with it? Believed in a theme simply because of the power behind the words? When I heard that the College Union Board (CUB) was sponsoring a trip to see the Jonathan Larson rock-musical RENT, I jumped at the chance to finally challenge my imagination.
It seems as though the Academy does indeed listen to the cries for justice and change. Film fanatics have complained that the Oscars run longer than the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. The Academy replied by running a compact three-hour show.
For those who criticize boring hosts that don't connect with the present generation, funny man Chris Rock was on hand to cut loose.