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David Poland

By David Poland poland@moviecitynews.com

Bogdanovich Epilogue: A Word About Biskind and Cher


Because everybody loves a nice, incestuous film blog reach-around (especially on Valentine’s Day), allow me to direct you to my good friend Looker, who follows up my Peter Bogdanovich/Targets dispatch from last week with perhaps an even more rewarding batch of comments smuggled out of Film Forum’s post-screening Q&A.
And once again, Peter Biskind absorbs the brunt of a filmmaker’s hot auteur wrath:

On Peter Biskind’s Easy Riders, Raging Bulls:

That book is so full of shit. It’s not to be believed. I leafed through three pages of it—I thought I was going to be sick to my stomach, and I never opened it again. Coppola wanted to put a hit out on him. I’m not kidding. I spent seven hours with that guy over a period of days, and he got it all wrong. He believed everything my ex-wife (Polly Platt), who at that time was a drunk, said.

Cher gets a little lighter love tap in Bogdanovich’s assessment of Mask (except for that part explaining, “She liked Sonny after he died.” I mean, go ahead–shudder. Take as long as you need), which you will need to click through to browse in its entirety. Now, if you do not mind, I think it is time Looker and I had a cigarette.

One Response to “Bogdanovich Epilogue: A Word About Biskind and Cher”

  1. Looker says:

    Mmm, that felt good.

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“I am just grateful I am still around. I would love to be Steven Soderbergh, but I am lucky to be Joe Swanberg. Actors want to work with me, people want to give me money, and my nightmare scenario remains: Getting in bed with a studio, spending years on a movie, and it turns out horrible, but now I’m rich.”

Actually, by Hollywood standards, you’re right, I said. That is unambitious.

“It is, and yet, if you can go to bed happy at night, doing what you want, isn’t that ambition for a lifetime?”
~ Swanberg On Swanberg By Borelli

“In retrospect, nothing of that kind surprised me about Philip, because his intuition was luminous from the instant you met him. So was his intelligence. A lot of actors act intelligent, but Philip was the real thing: a shining, artistic polymath with an intelligence that came at you like a pair of headlights and enveloped you from the moment he grabbed your hand, put a huge arm round your neck and shoved a cheek against yours; or if the mood took him, hugged you to him like a big, pudgy schoolboy, then stood and beamed at you while he took stock of the effect.”
John le Carré on Philip Seymour Hoffman