By Ray Pride Pride@moviecitynews.com

Ari Emanuel

“I wanted to tell Ovitz to his face, so I went into his office and said, “I’m trying to see Mike Ovitz.” I was told, “He’s not going to see you.” But I walked into his office anyway. Now, at the time, Mike Ovitz was God, and I was just a fucking street urchin. And he says, “I’m not seeing you.” I said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes and you’re going to deal with me then.” When I walk back in, there’s [CAA agent] Lee Gabler and [head of business affairs] Ray Kurtzman standing there with him. Ray liked me a lot, so I was calm and said, “Listen, it’s been great, but I’ve got to leave.” And then Mike gives me, “We’re going to kill you guys and your careers are going to be over.” I turned to him, got out of my Chinese chair, Japanese chair, whatever, and said, “Are you threatening me?” And I grabbed the chair with my hands and picked it up and said, “Because if you are, I’ll fucking throw this chair right out of here right now. Don’t threaten me.” I was an idiot. I was a complete moron. You don’t do that stuff, but I’ve been a fighter all my life.”
~ Ari Emanuel

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“I was 15 when I first watched Sally Hardesty escape into the back of a pickup truck, covered in blood and cackling like a goddamn witch. All of her friends were dead. She had been kidnapped, tortured and even forced to feed her own blood to her cannibalistic captors’ impossibly shriveled patriarch. Being new to the horror genre, I was sure she was going to die. It had been a few months since I survived a violent sexual assault, where I subsequently ran from my assailant, tripped, fell and fought like hell. I crawled home with bloody knees, makeup-stained cheeks and a new void in both my mind and heart. My sense of safety, my ability to trust others, my willingness to form new relationships and my love of spending time with people I cared about were all taken from me. It wasn’t until I found the original The Texas Chain Saw Massacre that something clicked. It was Sally’s strength, and her resilience. It was watching her survive blows to the head from a hammer. It was watching her break free from her bonds and burst through a glass window. It was watching her get back up after she’d been stabbed. It was watching her crawl into the back of a truck, laughing as it drove away from Leatherface. She was the last one to confront the killer, and live. I remember sitting in front of the TV and thinking, There I am. That’s me.”
~ Lauren Milici On “The Final Girl”

“‘Thriller’ enforced its own reality principle; it was there, part of the every commute, a serenade to every errand, a referent to every purchase, a fact of every life. You didn’t have to like it, you only had to acknowledge it. By July 6, 1984, when the Jacksons played the first show of their ‘Victory’ tour, in Kansas City, Missouri, Jacksonism had produced a system of commodification so complete that whatever and whoever was admitted to it instantly became a new commodity. People were no longer comsuming commodities as such things are conventionally understood (records, videos, posters, books, magazines, key rings, earrings necklaces pins buttons wigs voice-altering devices Pepsis t-shirts underwear hats scarves gloves jackets – and why were there no jeans called Bille Jeans?); they were consuming their own gestures of consumption. That is, they were consuming not a Tayloristic Michael Jackson, or any licensed facsimile, but themselves. Riding a Mobius strip of pure capitalism, that was the transubstantiation.”
~ Greil Marcus On Michael Jackson