Read our Blog Posts

REEL 13 Blog
  • October 13, 2009

    Best Movies by Farr: Other Edwards

    by John Farr

    John Farr explores the serious side of “Pink Panther” director Blake Edwards.

    Breakfast at Tiffany’s


    Charming, bubbly Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) leads a peripatetic life in Manhattan, attending swanky parties and living off the largesse of her gentleman acquaintances, who keep her attired in the very best designer outfits. Intrigued by Holly’s coming and goings, as well as her bouts of wistful loneliness, upstairs neighbor Paul (George Peppard) falls for the neurotic socialite. But is there something hidden behind Holly’s sophisticated facade?


    Adapted from Truman Capote’s novella, Edwards’s fleet-footed romantic comedy would not be the cultural touchstone it is without the effervescent presence of Hepburn. As Holly Golightly, a small-town Texas girl with her feet planted firmly in the glitz of New York’s party scene, Hepburn is irrepressibly charming, a vision of elflike beauty in Givenchy and pearls. But she is also a frail creature harboring secrets, and Hepburn plays both sides exquisitely. Peppard is solid and likable as writer Paul, Holly’s admirer and confidante, while Patricia Neal chews on her steely role as Paul’s wealthy older mistress. A chic, iconic romance, memorably set to the Oscar-winning strains of Henry Mancini’s “Moon River.”

    Experiment in Terror


    Kelly Sherwood is an attractive bank employee who lives with younger sister Toby (Stefanie Powers) in San Francisco. When Kelly is accosted by a wheezing psychopath (Ross Martin) who threatens to kill her and her sister unless she embezzles money from her bank, FBI agent John Ripley (Glenn Ford) is called in to handle the tricky case. Can Ripley nab his man before Kelly and Toby are harmed?


    Blake Edwards, best known for comedies, shows he can pull off thrillers with equal skill. Make no mistake: this one is lean, gritty and frightening. Remick is solid as a victim ripe for the plucking, and Ford appropriately stolid as the dedicated Ripley. And villain Martin (who’d go on to play Artemus Gordon on TV’s “The Wild, Wild West”) will make your skin crawl with that wheezing whisper. Be warned: not for the faint of heart.

    Days of Wine and Roses


    After an awkward meeting at a boat party seems to put them at odds, publicist Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon) and Kirsten Arnesen (Lee Remick) fall madly in love. The social and professional demands of the public-relations racket are nothing new to Joe, but gradually he turns tee-totaller Kirsten on to the pleasures of swilling cocktails at any hour. Over time, alcohol becomes integral to the young newlyweds’ relationship, and threatens to destroy their blissful existence.


    A downbeat love story pickled in bile and booze, this melodrama of addiction by the great Blake Edwards skirts the same terrain as “Lost Weekend” without ever getting preachy. Instead, Edwards examines the sullied yet undying connection between his two self-destructive protagonists, played by Lemmon and Remick with unblinking honesty. (Two specific scenes-his in a madhouse and hers in a motel-are wrenching.) Charles Bickford lends terrific support as Kirsten’s widower father, as does Jack Klugman in a small role as Joe’s AA sponsor. “Days” is a hard-hitting drama about love in the ruins, buoyed by Henry Mancini’s melancholic jazz score.

    Visit Best Movies by Farr for more great DVD recommendations.

  • October 13, 2009

    Best Movies by Farr: Killer Cage

    by John Farr

    John Farr serves up some killer Nic Cage.



    Loretta (Cher) is a young Italian-American widow set to marry Johnny Cammareri (Danny Aiello). Only problem: while Johnny’s away, Loretta falls for Johnny’s younger brother Ronny (Nicolas Cage). Meanwhile, mother Rose (Olympia Dukakis) has her own romantic troubles keeping the embers burning with pre-occupied husband Cosmo (Gardenia).


    Nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and winning statuettes for co-stars Cher and Dukakis, this movie overflows with off-kilter charm and humor. Cher hits all the right notes as the bewildered Loretta, but Dukakis comes off best in the tricky role of Rose – a rare woman who’s as wise about herself as others and faces a challenging personal situation with grace and dignity. A flavorful, heartwarming delight from director Norman Jewison.

    Leaving Las Vegas


    Depressed Hollywood screenwriter Ben (Nicolas Cage) arrives in Las Vegas with one goal: to drink himself to death. On the Strip one night, he picks up fresh-faced hooker Sera (Elisabeth Shue), who takes a liking to the self-destructive Ben. As their friendship turns into a damaged love affair, they accept each other unconditionally, with Sera agreeing never to ask Ben to stop drinking-no matter what.


    Filmed on a shoestring by Figgis, who also contributed the haunting jazz score, “Vegas” is a fearlessly downbeat love story about desperation and despair that was rapturously received at the box office in 1995. Cage won an Oscar for his gritty, go-for-broke portrayal of the suicidal Ben, and Shue made the leap from TV’s “Melrose Place” to the big screen with her convincingly raw, Oscar-nominated performance-especially in one horrific motel scene. Adapted from John O’Brien’s novel, “Vegas” is one cinematic bender that leaves a strangely blissful hangover.



    Deranged criminal mastermind Castor Troy (Nicolas Cage), currently in a coma, has planted a biological weapon somewhere in LA and only his equally psychotic brother Pollux (Allesandro Nivola) knows where. Crack FBI agent Sean Archer (John Travolta) has a long, painful history battling the Troys, and undergoes a radical medical procedure transferring Castor’s face to his own, in hopes that once he’s reunited with Pollux in prison, the ever loyal little brother will talk. But the insensate Castor’s got life in him yet, and unfortunately, Archer has left his own face behind.


    Despite the grotesque, almost preposterous premise, Hong Kong director John Woo’s second American-made actioner has all the savage bite, black humor, and balletic fight choreography of his best-known Asian films. Deliberately mythic in concept, “Face/Off” probes questions of honor, identity, and morality while giving Travolta and Cage plenty of leeway to stretch their archetypal good-and-evil personas. Ingenious, kinetic and reveling in its choreographed, over the top violence, “Face/Off” is a complex thriller that’s bloody good fun.

    Visit Best Movies by Farr for more great DVD recommendations.

  • October 7, 2009

    A Scouting Life: So Long, New Orleans

    by Sam Hutchins

    I’ve always thought of New Orleans as a whore you could take to Church.  It’s a dirty old city that gladly seduces the willing. She’ll take you as dark and deep as you’re predisposed to go.  There’s also a deep strain of faith present.  There was many a Sunday that I barely scrubbed the stink of the night off of me before attending old-rights Latin mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  At more than one mass I laid eyes on men who were fine upstanding pillars of the community in their Sunday best; men who I had seen hours earlier wearing a dress and doing lines off of someone’s ass.  It’s that kind of town.  My night out with Darius and Stephane ran late.  Having crashed at the hotel for what seemed like minutes I was up and at ‘em and ready to scout early the next morning.

    The many story possibilities New Orleans offered had me excited to do some scouting.  What an appropriate milieu for a Wong Kar Wai film.  Its history is such a rich tapestry, one that likely has its share of stains and cigarette burns.  The old buildings stand unbowed in the French Quarter.  Much as modern life has tried to impose its will on them, their past can never be erased.  Each layer has its own stories to tell.  And what a past it is.  So many different cultures and traditions intermingling as can only happen in a port city, a transient, itinerant city.  A place shaped and formed by all those who have passed through.  It seemed to me as good a city as could be hoped for to do what we wanted.  After all, isn’t that the world Kar Wai inhabits?  His characters populate the margins and that is a marginal city if there ever was one.

    The place that came to mind first as a location was the Clover Grille.  The Clover was an Edward Hopper painting come to life.  Wedged into a 17th Century row house on Lower Bourbon Street it was open 24 hours and saw more business after dark than it ever did in the daylight.  The stainless-steel 50’s vintage interior somehow fit naturally within the ancient hand-plastered superstructure.  The Clover was far enough downtown on Bourbon that it was well clear of the raucous, 4-for-1 drink special stretch of the street.  It was even beyond the brief gay-friendly patch of the boulevard.  You only wound up there because you wanted to, not because it was convenient.  It’s a place that attracts strangers and outcasts and makes them feel at home.  Put the camera across the street and point it towards the picture window.  The people passing in and out will tell the story for you.

    As perfect as it might be, I also ransacked my mental files to find other possible locations in town.  I imagined Camelia Grill, or the Half-Moon, or Miss Mae’s or any number of others might provide great options for our director.  Regrettably it was not to be.

    “So we should check out and get on our way, yes?” was how Stephane greeted me in the morning.

    “Check out, really?  I figured we should spend at least one more night here, there’s a lot of scouting to do locally.”

    “No, no, we cannot shoot here.  I hate this town, it is so dirty.”

    Ummmm, wow.  We had polished off a bottle of whiskey last night while planning our great crescent city adventure.  Now suddenly the rug was being yanked out from under me.

    “Dirty?  Really?  There are so many amazing stories to tell here.”

    “It is not for Kar Wai.  I have discussed this with him and he is not interested in filming here.”

    I’d like to say that I respectfully disagreed but that would be overstating my estimation.  Before I could dig my heels in Darius came rumbling into the lobby rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

    “My friends, are we going on the tour?”


    “What tour would that be, we going to see the alligators in the swamp?” I bit off the words.

    “Swamp?  What ees thees swamp?  I want to see the damage from the hurricane.  You know, how do you say, the Banlieue?” fortunately (or not) Stephane was able to translate.

    “The ghetto, Sammy, where the black people live and the hurricane hit.  You promised last night we would get to see the damage.”

    Now that absolutely did not strike a bell.  No part of me at all remembered promising such a tour.  That being said, I have made plenty of drunken promises in my time.  If held to them I’d be married five times over and four of my wives would be strippers.  With my history I was not inclined to argue the point.  A tour they had apparently been promised so a tour they would get.

    Much later I spoke to Kar Wai about the city, and all the reasons it was a perfect place for him to work.  He indicated that it was too rich a subject for just one segment of a film, and that he would love to make an entire film based there.  I was willing to accept that and even a little excited at the prospect of doing a full show with him there.  In the meantime we had a nice look at the wreckage that used to be people’s lives and moved along.  My disappointment was tempered by the fact that we were heading north on the blues trail.  Highway 61 re-revisited.  Time to follow Robert Johnson up to Mississippi and look for the devil himself.



    Sam Hutchins has been working in film production for twenty years. He started as overnight security on the set of “Working Girl” while attending film school at NYU. Since 1995 he has been a location manager for some of the top names in the business. He’ll be blogging from a unique insider’s perspective on the filmmaking process, as well as speaking to his colleagues in the production community to share their experiences with you.

  • September 28, 2009

    A Scouting Life: New Orleans After Dark

    by Same Hutchins

    My disappointment at bailing early on Cajun Country was tempered by the anticipation of a night out in New Orleans.  Stephane took the wheel and put it on the floor headed east on Highway 10.  My companions didn’t do a lot of driving, but when needed Stephane was great at taking the stick and piloting us home.  I’m an excellent driver and therefore pretty particular about whom I’ll ride with when I’m not in control; I had no issue with ceding the truck to Stephane.

    Good thing, too, as I needed to get on the phone and set us up in the city.  My job can be social in many ways, and it was time to work the phone.  We were unexpectedly headed to New Orleans for a night of relaxation and enjoyment followed by a day of scouting, it was early evening already and I had a couple hours of highway driving time to make arrangements.

    As well connected as I am in that town, it was only five months post-Katrina.  I had not been down since the tragedies connected with it.  Having been involved a bit in some relief efforts I knew who was back in town and who was still stranded elsewhere as part of the diaspora that had been created.  Still, one couldn’t be sure how our visit would go.  It worked out, though, and soon we were set up in the Renaissance Hotel in the Warehouse District.  A truly great Hotel and definitely the right place for a comfortable night.  A few more calls and we had plans for drinks and dinner, and someone was waiting in the lobby for us with some excellent pot.  New Orleans here we come.

    The Katrina effect was apparent as soon as we wheeled into town.  Five months later and most of the traffic signals on Poydras Street weren’t functioning.  No police working the intersections, it was fend for yourself time.  Trees down everywhere and not many people to be seen.  It felt so odd overall.  This was going to take a little getting used to.  At least the valet stand at the hotel was manned, but even there we were told that they didn’t have anyone to cover the late shift.  They would be shutting down at 10.

    “Don’t worry sir, I’ll leave your car right out front and the keys will be at the front desk,” I was reassured.  “But you want to be careful going out too late, things are still a little sketchy at night here.”

    The hotel may have been half-empty and down to a skeleton staff, but my guy was still working and greeted me with a big hug and a smile.  As we made the exchange he held me at arm’s length.

    “Thanks for coming back, man, we appreciate it.  The city needs your support.  Bring the film here.  Tell everyone we’re back and to come see us again.”  Yes, it’s the kind of city where even the drug dealers are civic boosters.  You don’t find that everywhere.  Says something about a city.

    After settling into our luxury rooms with 600 count Frette sheets and steam showers we re-convened in the lobby.  My companions were truly pleased by the accommodations for the first time since we left New York.  In short order we were burning a joint as we drove slowly up Magazine Street.  It all came back to me in a rush, how much I love the city.  Amidst the damage the bungalows still lined the street, their weathered stoutness hidden beneath riotous bursts of color.  I found myself tearing up with joy and love for my surroundings.  My God I love New Orleans.  It is a city of music and magic.

    We picked up my friend Mario in one of the many low-key bars that would instantly be the coolest place in most cities I’ve been in but was just another gin mill there.  A few drinks later we were in Jacques-Imo’s.  If you are reading this and have not been there you should turn off your computer, fly to New Orleans, and have a meal there before finishing these words.  It’s that good.  Nothing I write can quite convey the full experience but I’ll try with an illustrative story.

    My first visit there many years ago found the place three deep at the bar.  I somehow found an empty stool and squeezed my way into a glass of Stoli.  Johnny Cash was singing “Ring of Fire” in the background.  A drunken mess of a man next to me dug his elbow into my side.

    “Hey man, you know this song?”


    “Bet you didn’t know he wrote it about Jimmy Carter.”

    “Are you an idiot?  He wrote it about June Carter.  His wife.”

    “Oh.  Really?  Huh, I guess that makes a lot more sense, doesn’t it?”

    Having a hard time believing anyone could be that big of a drunken fool I turned to get a look at the guy, and what a sight.  He was a short, bearded guy wearing chef’s whites, boxer shorts and sandals.  He was guzzling a good Bordeaux right out of the bottle.  Extending his hand, he said:

    “Hi, I’m Jack.  This is my restaurant.”

    Common sense would have taken me right out the door, but sometimes a lack of such is your best asset.  Now, years later I returned to see Jack and brought my new friends.  Even though the rest of New Orleans was a ghost town his joint was hopping.  He greeted us with big hugs; made sure we had drinks and whisked us to a table.  Dishes started magically appearing on our table.  Fried oysters, spinach salad, alligator cheesecake, chicken livers on toast points, steamed mussels, etoufee, each more delicious than the last and those were just the appetizers.  Jack grabbed a bottle of wine off of someone else’s table and filled our glasses.  It would have been an even more memorable meal with a few less bottles of wine, as it stands I know we had a great time even if the details are a bit fuzzy.

    We wound up in Mario’s bar, the now-defunct King Bolden.  The drive there from Jacques-Imo’s was a little sobering as we saw how banged-up the rest of the city still was.  We hatched our plans over a late-night bottle of whiskey.  Mario and I both pushed New Orleans as a location for our film.  Katrina or not, there are so many stories to tell there.  We went late into the evening toasting one another and kicking around ideas for our film.  Stephane and Darius were starting to fade a bit when Mario pulled out an illustrated highway of Route 61, the blues highway.  We ended the evening with a drive through the deserted streets while excitedly discussing Robert Johnson and the deep south.  Good times and great material were at hand.



    Sam Hutchins has been working in film production for twenty years. He started as overnight security on the set of “Working Girl” while attending film school at NYU. Since 1995 he has been a location manager for some of the top names in the business. He’ll be blogging from a unique insider’s perspective on the filmmaking process, as well as speaking to his colleagues in the production community to share their experiences with you.

  • September 23, 2009

    Best Movies by Farr: Prime Kazan

    by John Farr

    John Farr on one of the greats, director Elia Kazan, and three of his less-celebrated pictures.

    Panic in the Streets (1950)


    Early Elia Kazan suspenser centers around an increasingly desperate search for two criminals on the lam in New Orleans (played by Jack Palance and Zero Mostel), who, unbeknownst to them, have been infested with Bubonic plague. If health inspector Dr. Clint Reed (Widmark) and police captain Tom Warren (Paul Douglas) don’t nab their quarry fast, this killer plague will spread and put the whole country at risk.


    Breathlessly exciting film is one of the best manhunt pictures ever made, with the plague twist adding an extra jolt of tension. Kazan’s peerless on-location shooting never obscures the terrific acting from the four central characters, comprising both hunters and hunted. Palance is positively magnetic. Don’t miss this one.

    A Face in the Crowd (1957)


    Local radio interviewer Marcia Jeffries (Patricia Neal) decides to interview transients at the local jail for a human interest story. There, she spots a drunken Arkansas hayseed named Larry “Lonesome” Rhodes (Andy Griffith), whom she discovers has rare gift for gab and song. Before long, due to Marcia’s initial boosting, “Lonesome” becomes a wildly popular network TV star. Little does she know she’s creating a monster.


    This engrossing and sobering tale about the precarious and poisonous nature of fame in our mass-media age seems even more timely today. Budd Schulberg’s script (who also wrote “On The Waterfront”) literally sizzles, and Neal is superb. As to Andy, this role made him, but he sure is a long way from Mayberry! An impossibly cute, young Remick (as Betty Lou, Lonesome’s baton twirling, clueless child bride Betty Lou, and Franciosa as a slimeball talent agent do fine work; the legendary Matthau is also on hand in a subtle, sad-sack turn as a wise but weary network executive. This is one “Face” you’ll never forget.

    Splendor in the Grass (1961)


    Rich kid Bud Stamper (Warren Beatty) and high-school beauty Deanie Loomis (Natalie Wood) are going steady in 1920s Kansas, but though the torch of love burns hot and bright, Deanie resists giving up her virginity to Bud, whose sexual frustration drives him into the arms of other, “looser” girls. The fragile Deanie, meanwhile, is driven over the edge by her shrewish mother (Audrey Christie), and her own raging hormones.


    Handsome and emitting the masculine musk that would soon turn him into a rakish sex symbol, Beatty makes an assured screen debut in Elia Kazan’s “Grass,” starring opposite an exquisitely lovely and tortured Wood, playing one of Hollywood’s most memorable sexual hysterics. (Reportedly, the two young stars had some sexual hysterics off the sound-stage as well.) Think Douglas Sirk or Tennessee Williams and you have some idea where Kazan’s wonderfully executed tale of young love, scripted by William Inge, eventually tumbles. Keep an eye out too for Phyllis Diller and a young Sandy Dennis, also making her big-screen debut.

    Visit Best Movies by Farr for more great DVD recommendations.

Page 54 of 66« First...102030...5253545556...60...Last »
©2017 WNET All Rights Reserved.   825 Eighth Avenue, New York, NY 10019