Friday, August 24, 2012

I See Dead People

Lots of famous Hollywood folk have been kicking the bucket in the last few weeks. Ernest Borgnine, who won an Oscar for his portrayal of Marty, bought the farm in the beginning of July. Phyllis Diller, the famously blue comedienne who rose to pop culture prominence in the '60s, went permanently horizontal on 20 August. Both of the foregoing stars were quite ancient. Tony Scott, however was not.

Scott, the famous brother of the equally famous Ridley Scott, was merely 68 when he forthrightly tossed himself off a bridge in San Jose, California. Mr. Scott wasn't a nut, however. He discovered he had inoperable cancer and decided that a long goodbye just wasn't his thing. So, he made a decision.

Running up to his swan dive, Mr. Scott directed some monumental movies. The Hunger, The Fan, The Last Boy Scout, Enemy of The State. Top Gun. Yes, that Top Gun. Plus, he produced tons of television that you have probably watched in syndication, like The Good Wife and Numb3rs. And he directed Quentin Tarantino's first script - True Romance.

True Romance is loaded to the gills with giant talent, including a monumental turn by Gary Oldman of Dracula and Tinker, Tailor fame as a white Detroit pimp and murdering drug dealer who thinks he's black. Also in this lesser-know flick is Samuel L. "Motherf*cking" Jackson, Snoop Dogg, Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Val Kilmer, Christopher Walken, Dennis Hopper and, forget it, the list goes on and on. The movie stars Patricia Arquette and Christian Slater who are basically second fiddles to this immense stable of talent. Plus, the script drips Tarrantino, which is a major tribute to Scott's appreciation of that vision.

So, as a sign of respect for a major Hollywood talent who knew how to make a mind-boggling range of winning movies,  how to snag A-list friends and to stick to his singular conviction about his life and how it should end, watch True Romance. Do it now, please.


Monday, August 6, 2012

Six Words

Six words can say it all.

Fish for dinner: don't be late.

Half an hour, I'll be there.

Bring some wine, red or white.

Room, dark; sheets, cool; skin, taut.

Her hair flowed into his mind.

She wore silk only for him.

This last goodbye erased no memories.

Once, I knew an elf. Weird?

Jesus, what did you expect? Hemingway?