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By Ray Pride Pride@moviecitynews.com

Wenders’ STATE OF THINGS RV Scene (9’58″)

Somehow it comes back to this. Appropriate at the end of one year and the start of another. The State Of Things, the strange missive Wenders eked in the delay, delay, delays of Hammett, indulging in all sorts of anachronism and present-tension. Black-and-white, you motherfucker, indeed. How much did Garfield improvise in his Coppola stylings in that rackety Winnebago Silverfish? Like some of the rat-a-tat-tat of John Garfield exsanguinating Abraham Polonsky’s corpuscular vernacular in Force Of Evil. Garfield’s may be more impressive a feat of off-the-cuff character legerdemain than Brando telling us he swallowed a bug in Hearts of Darkness. “You can’t build a movie without a story. Have you ever tried building a house without walls? It’s the same. You can’t build a house without walls. A movie’s got to have walls, Friedrich. It’s gotta have walls. Y’know?”

“Why walls?” mutters Friedrich. “The space between the characters can carry the load.”

“You’re talking about reality, Friedrich. Fuck reality, Friedrich, when are you going to wake up? Cinema… is not about life going by, people don’t wanna see that.”

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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