No recuerdo año con semejantes pérdidas como las de este.
Struzan ha decorado las habitaciones de muchos de nosotros, yo tengo colgado el precioso poster del Final Cut de Blade Runner.
Hasta siempre, Drew R.I.P.
No recuerdo año con semejantes pérdidas como las de este.
Struzan ha decorado las habitaciones de muchos de nosotros, yo tengo colgado el precioso poster del Final Cut de Blade Runner.
Hasta siempre, Drew R.I.P.
No sólo hizo carteles...
DEP.
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Descanse en paz, Drew Struzan :(
Gran artista y cartelista.
De los mejores en lo suyo, pocos carteles de cine recuerdo tan icónicos como los suyos.
Descanse en paz.
I LOVE Helen Mirren❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️
Woody Allen, sobre Diane Keaton:
It’s grammatically incorrect to say “most unique,” but all rules of grammar, and I guess anything else, are suspended when talking about Diane Keaton. Unlike anyone the planet has experienced or is unlikely to ever see again, her face and laugh illuminated any space she entered.
I first laid eyes on her lanky beauty at an audition and thought, If Huckleberry Finn was a gorgeous young woman, he’d be Keaton. Fresh out of Orange County, she flew to Manhattan to act, got a job as a coat check girl, and was hired for a small part in the musical Hair, in which she eventually had the lead.
Meanwhile, David Merrick and I were auditioning actresses in the Morosco Theatre for my play Play It Again, Sam. Sandy Meisner taught an acting class and told Merrick about an up-and-coming actress who was amazing. She came in and read for us and knocked us both for a loop. A small glitch was that she appeared to be taller than me, and we didn’t want that to figure in the jokes. Like two schoolkids, we stood back-to-back on the stage of the Morosco and measured. Fortunately we were the same height, and Merrick hired her.
For the first week of rehearsal we never spoke a word to one another. She was shy, I was shy, and with two shy people things can get pretty dull. Finally, by chance we took a break at the same moment and wound up sharing a fast bite at some Eighth Avenue joint. That was our first moment of personal contact. The upshot is that she was so charming, so beautiful, so magical, that I questioned my sanity. I thought: Could I be in love so quickly?
By the time the show opened in Washington, D.C., we were lovers. About then, I showed her my first film privately and prepared her for what a mess it was, how awful, a total failure. She sat through Take the Money and Run and said the movie was very funny and very original. Her words. Its success proved her correct and I never doubted her judgment again. I showed her every film I made after that and grew to care only about her appraisals.
As time went on I made movies for an audience of one, Diane Keaton. I never read a single review of my work and cared only what Keaton had to say about it. If she liked it, I counted the film as an artistic success. If she was less than enthusiastic, I tried to use her criticism to reedit and come away with something she felt better about. By then we were living together and I was seeing the world through her eyes. She had huge talent for comedies and drama, but she could also dance and sing with feeling. She also wrote books and did photography, made collages, decorated homes, and directed films. Finally, she was a million laughs to be around.
For all her shyness and self-effacing personality, she was totally secure in her own aesthetic judgment. Whether she was criticizing a movie of mine or a play of Shakespeare’s, she held both to the same standard. If she felt Shakespeare had gone wrong—it didn’t matter who or how many sang his praises, it was her own feeling that she went with, and she didn’t hesitate to put the knock on the Bard.
Her fashion sense was a sight to behold, of course. Her sartorial concoctions rivaled the contraptions of Rube Goldberg. She put together clothing that defied logic but always worked. In later years, her look became more elegant.
During the few years we lived together, she taught me so much. Example: Before I met her I never heard of bulimia. We’d go to Knicks games and after to Frankie and Johnnie’s for a steak. She’d put away a sirloin, hash browns, marble cheesecake, and coffee. Then we’d get home, and moments later she’d be toasting waffles or packing a huge taco with pork. I would stand there, stunned. This slim actress ate like Paul Bunyan. Only years later when she wrote a memoir did she describe her eating disorder, but when I was experiencing it, I could only think I’d never seen anyone eat like that outside of a documentary on whales.
An interesting point: For all her genius and insight into theater and art (she collected paintings and was an early proponent of Cy Twombly), Diane Keaton was a hick, a rube, a hayseed. I should’ve realized it from the start. When I first dated her, I would look into her eyes over candlelight and tell her how beautiful she was. She would stare back and say, “Honest Injun?” Honest Injun? Who speaks like that unless you’re in an Our Gang comedy?
And then there was the time she had me meet her family at Thanksgiving in her Orange County house. Her mom and dad, her sister and brother, Grammy Keaton and Grammy Hall (Grammy?), and an odd little man unaccounted for who had gotten the turkey free from his union. After dinner and talk of swap meets and garage sales, the table was cleared and pennies were given out while everyone, including me, sat around and played penny poker. We played five- and seven-card stud but the stakes were for pennies.
At the time I was a big poker fan and was used to fairly large games with strong disciplined players, so here I am betting and bluffing and intimidating Grammy Hall and Grammy Keaton out of 10-cent pots. Keaton, the actress daughter, is playing and betting viciously as if each hand were for a thousand dollars. I wound up the big winner, clearing about 80 cents. I don’t think the Grammys ever wanted me back. They thought I was hustling them.
This was Keaton’s world, her people, her background. It was amazing that this beautiful yokel went on to become an award-winning actress and sophisticated fashion icon. We had a few great personal years together and finally we both moved on, and why we parted only God and Freud might be able to figure out.
She went on to date a number of exciting men, all of them more fascinating than I was. I went on to keep trying to make that great masterpiece that I am still struggling with when I last looked. I kidded Keaton that we’d wind up—she like Norma Desmond, me like Erich von Stroheim, once her director, now her chauffeur. But the world is constantly being redefined, and with Keaton’s passing it is redefined once again. A few days ago the world was a place that included Diane Keaton. Now it’s a world that does not. Hence, it’s a drearier world. Still, there are her movies. And her great laugh still echoes in my head.
What makes Megalopolis so strange and, for a big-budget Hollywood film, so singular, is that, just like Vergil’s Aeneid, it is at once accretive, allusive, and idiosyncratic because Coppola is attempting something very few artists have ever done: to speak from inside the imperial organism, even as it begins to crack, and to craft a vision that is both a monument to its grandeur and a requiem for its decline.
Al Pacino, sobre Diane Keaton:
I am deeply saddened by Diane Keaton’s passing.
When I first heard the news, I was shaken. Diane was my partner, my friend, someone who brought me happiness and on more than one occasion influenced the direction of my life. Though over thirty years has past since we were together, the memories remain vivid, and with her passing, they have returned with a force that is both painful and moving.
She lived without limits, and everything she touched carried her unmistakable energy. She opened doors for others, inspired generations and embodied a once-in-a-lifetime gift that radiated through her work and her life.
On screen, she was magnetic — lightning and charm, hurricanes and tenderness. She was a wonder. Acting was her art, but it was only one of the many ways she expressed her imagination and creativity.
People will miss her, but more than that, they will remember her. She left a mark that cannot fade. She was unstoppable, resilient and above all, deeply human.
I will always remember her. She could fly — and in my heart, she always will.
What makes Megalopolis so strange and, for a big-budget Hollywood film, so singular, is that, just like Vergil’s Aeneid, it is at once accretive, allusive, and idiosyncratic because Coppola is attempting something very few artists have ever done: to speak from inside the imperial organism, even as it begins to crack, and to craft a vision that is both a monument to its grandeur and a requiem for its decline.
Murió Ace Frehley, guitarrista original de Kiss
Descansa en paz, Spaceman![]()