Wes Anderson’s original, black & white, 13 minute version of Bottle Rocket.
Anderson’s short film, which he shot in 1992 and distributed two years later, was originally set to star ”real” and established actors but, due to budget issues, the main roles were given to co-screenwriter Owen Wilson and his brother Luke, neither of whom had ever appeared in a film before.
Things worked out okay.
|—||David Foster Wallace (via maxistentialist)|
|—||Questlove is the Hardest-Working Man in Showbiz, and He is Lonely Enough to Prove It - New York - Music - Sound of the City - Print Version|
[Hans Holbein the Younger, The Body of the Dead Christ in the Tomb]
Looking at that picture, you get the impression of nature as some enormous, implacable, and dumb beast, or, to put it more correctly, much more correctly, though it may seem strange, as some huge engine of the latest design, which has senselessly seized, cut to pieces, and swallowed up–impassively and unfeelingly–a great and priceless Being, a Being worth the whole of nature and all its laws, worth the entire earth, which was perhaps created solely for the coming of that Being! The picture seems to give expression to the idea of a dark, insolent, and senselessly eternal power, to which everything is subordinated, and this idea is suggested to you unconsciously. The people surrounding the dead man, none of whom is shown in the picture, must have been overwhelmed by a feeling of terrible anguish and dismay on that evening which had shattered all their hopes and almost all their beliefs at one fell blow. They must have parted in a state of the most dreadful terror, though each of them carried away within him a mighty thought which could never be wrested from him. And if, on the eve of the crucifixion, the Master could have seen what He would look like when taken from the cross, would he have mounted the cross and died as he did?
Dostoevsky, The Idiot
That 1963 disappearance was a scandal. She had been the most beloved of film stars, her handsome face, accepting smile, known to all. And then, suddenly, rudely, without a word of apology, she was going to disappear—to retire.
Here, where the stars hang on, voluntary retirement is unknown, particularly for one the caliber of Setsuko Hara. She had become an ideal: men wanted to marry someone like her; women wanted to be someone like her.
This was because on the screen she reconciled her life as real people cannot. Whatever her role in films—daughter, wife, or mother—she played a woman who at the same time, somehow, was herself. Her social roles did not eclipse that individual self, our Setsuko.
— Donald Richie, Japanese Portraits
Born June 17, 1920