How do you like these?
All from the Guldbagge awards:
And this dress???
My goodness
Who is the chick with Joel? Gf? Sister?
Michael Fassbender
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My goodness
Who is the chick with Joel? Gf? Sister?
My goodness
It's his sister Melinda. And yes the shoes are ... well not nice or matching.
So, the story in The Sun about being asked to leave the ADM after-party is completely false, according to someone who was actually at the party.
"Dear Gordon Smart of #thesun your story about michael fassbender at GQ's party on Tuesday is complete fiction. *checkyourfacts*
We were glad he was there and no one was asked to leave early, but hey, feel free to just make it up #thatsnotjouranalismitscreativewriting"
Source: twitter.com/oliviacole1
She's the literary editor of GQ.
"Dear Gordon Smart of #thesun your story about michael fassbender at GQ's party on Tuesday is complete fiction. *checkyourfacts*
We were glad he was there and no one was asked to leave early, but hey, feel free to just make it up #thatsnotjouranalismitscreativewriting"
Source: twitter.com/oliviacole1
She's the literary editor of GQ.
Hi ladies - I decided to join in on the Fassy love fest. I just read this little blurb from Brad Pitt.
Pitt reunited with the Australian film-maker last year to play an underworld fixer in Cogan's Trade. Also on the runway are zombie tale World War Z and a smaller role in Steve McQueen's Twelve Years a Slave. "McQueen is the real deal," he says. "And Fassbender is as good as it gets." We discuss Fassbender's prolific workrate and Pitt remarks, "Yeah, it's like he's working in the porn industry. He should be, by the way."
Welcome Gemini582!
Forget the tabloidy rite of passage, I'm sure it's a proud day for his parents that Clooney's mentioned his golfing skills on national tv and that Pitt mentions his porn-worthiness in The Guardian :okay:
Forget the tabloidy rite of passage, I'm sure it's a proud day for his parents that Clooney's mentioned his golfing skills on national tv and that Pitt mentions his porn-worthiness in The Guardian :okay:
The Comedy Critic - Steve McQueen's 'Lame'
Adam Hollingworth casts a satirical eye over Steve McQueen's Shame...
Guys, have you ever woken up one morning, taken a long hard look in the mirror, and thought to yourself, You know what? Im really having far too much sex and this isnt very good for me. Well Michael Fassbender does just that in a stark, hauntingly un-erotic scene in his latest collaboration with artist-cum-filmmaker Steve McQueen, Shame. He even has the temerity to have this dawning moment of sexual realisation in the midst of a hard-core threesome with two unfeasibly attractive prostitutes. Some people are so ungrateful.
It may well be the case that hes had sex with more women during the course of the film up to this point than Ive had in my twenty two years of British amorous bashfulness, and has done so with a Magneto the size of a small Oompa Loompa, and is growing decidedly tired of having to constantly think up increasingly unlikely ways of picking people up (I stare at hot women on the tube every day, and I assure you not a single one of them deviates from the standard behaviour of attempting to avoid your gaze at all costs). But the fact of the matter is that he really doesnt seem to be suffering all that much from this alienating, perverse form of addiction.
Steve McQueen is one of that admirable band of filmmakers who views himself as an artist, and rightly so since he actually is, in fact, an artist. This however renders him more open than most to the desire to explore the great undiscovered country of arty cinema: the age-old question of whether a sex film can transcend the salaciousness of its subject matter to be a very serious and worthy piece of existential consideration. Pardon the phraseology for a moment here, but when it comes to making the arty sex film there are numerous exciting ways to do it. You can do it like Stanley Kubrick in Eyes Wide **** (sorry, Shut) in which everyone wears a mask right out of a Halloween party in the Hundred Acre Wood, and Tom Cruise pretends not to be a homosexual whilst offering us a glimpse of what those top secret Scientology gatherings are really like. Or you can do it like Michael Winterbottom in Nine Songs, a veritable set list of supposedly casual encounters that would make even the likes of Joan Collins go a darker shade of crimson. Alternatively you can do it like Bertolucci in Last Tango in Paris, in which Marlon Brando certainly cant believe its not butter. And for the gentleman of more fetishistic taste, or someone who just isnt that into Utterly Butterly, you can do it like Nagisa Oshima in Ai No Corrida, and admit that its all so tediously boring that you might as well just chop it off!
Though all of these films certainly have their merits, they all encounter the same problem when it comes to addressing sex in an arty way on film: it always turns into a bit of an excuse to do some well-photographed rumpy pumpy scenes with two good-looking actors, and as such fails to properly distance ourselves from the on-screen erotica to objectively judge what the film has to say. This is certainly a problem with Shame: were too interested in admiring the technique of this fine specimen of a man to worry about how this is all gnawing at him physically and psychologically. This wouldnt have been a problem if Brandon had been played by, say, Steve Buscemi. Fassbenders a brilliant actor, and gives a courageous performance in the film, but Im just trying to catch another envious glimpse of his German-Irish frankfurter.
The films problems are compounded when you think about the other dimension it presents itself as having: namely, that its as much about addiction as it is after sex. When you finish watching Trainspotting you dont want to then take some drugs in case a baby starts playing Spider-Man on your roof, and after The Lost Weekend I was scared to have a pint lest the cast of Tales from the Riverbank besieged my home. After watching Shame, I fancied a shag, and thats hardly the sign of a film putting you off the addiction it presents.
Its not that I thought Shame was a bad film: indeed there is much to recommend it. The art direction and cinematography presents a cool yet cold world with an alien sheen: an objectified and superficially beautified view of reality that reflects the way Brandon objectifies the various elements of his life to feed his lusts. Fassbender is brilliant, and so too is Carey Mulligan, cast against type in an emotionally raw, unstable and fractured performance thats probably the best thing shes done (and she can knock off a mean, sultry rendition of New York, New York). However, after the extraordinary image making of Hunger I really did expect more from Steve McQueens direction. Aside from the above bit when Mulligan sings, and the bit when Fassbender decides to eschew sex for a brisk late-night jog, and a suitably nightmarish descent into the maelstrom sequence before the dramatic backlash of the central brother/sister relationship kicks in (he cant engage emotionally with women, shes very needy, he subsequently is absent in his sisters hour of grave need), its all very uninspired, insipid, and safe. With such a deliberately vague and obscure narrative, in which little proactive drama or character history is supplied, one would expect mood, tone and detail to be found in subtly metaphorical imagery, but this is unfortunately lacking, and in tandem with the infuriating ambiguity of the drama makes for a rather superficial experience. Its all too neat, too obvious, too well-trodden. Like Brandons sex life, the film just casually, if eventfully, crawls from one episode to the next with little meaning or impact.
Lets get topical as a way of rounding things off. Im not surprised Fassbender isnt Oscar nominated for his performance in this: not because its not a great performance, because it very much is, but when even George Clooney is intimidated by your natural perks you know youre seriously risking alienation from the mainstream. And although Carey Mulligan has also been unfairly slighted by the awards circuit, at least we get to see her naked in this. I really wanted the film to be better than it was, but unfortunately it isnt better than it is, because its only as good as it is. That didnt make much sense, did it? Maybe too much sex is bad for you
Adam Hollingworth
Adam Hollingworth casts a satirical eye over Steve McQueen's Shame...
It may well be the case that hes had sex with more women during the course of the film up to this point than Ive had in my twenty two years of British amorous bashfulness, and has done so with a Magneto the size of a small Oompa Loompa, and is growing decidedly tired of having to constantly think up increasingly unlikely ways of picking people up (I stare at hot women on the tube every day, and I assure you not a single one of them deviates from the standard behaviour of attempting to avoid your gaze at all costs). But the fact of the matter is that he really doesnt seem to be suffering all that much from this alienating, perverse form of addiction.
Steve McQueen is one of that admirable band of filmmakers who views himself as an artist, and rightly so since he actually is, in fact, an artist. This however renders him more open than most to the desire to explore the great undiscovered country of arty cinema: the age-old question of whether a sex film can transcend the salaciousness of its subject matter to be a very serious and worthy piece of existential consideration. Pardon the phraseology for a moment here, but when it comes to making the arty sex film there are numerous exciting ways to do it. You can do it like Stanley Kubrick in Eyes Wide **** (sorry, Shut) in which everyone wears a mask right out of a Halloween party in the Hundred Acre Wood, and Tom Cruise pretends not to be a homosexual whilst offering us a glimpse of what those top secret Scientology gatherings are really like. Or you can do it like Michael Winterbottom in Nine Songs, a veritable set list of supposedly casual encounters that would make even the likes of Joan Collins go a darker shade of crimson. Alternatively you can do it like Bertolucci in Last Tango in Paris, in which Marlon Brando certainly cant believe its not butter. And for the gentleman of more fetishistic taste, or someone who just isnt that into Utterly Butterly, you can do it like Nagisa Oshima in Ai No Corrida, and admit that its all so tediously boring that you might as well just chop it off!
Though all of these films certainly have their merits, they all encounter the same problem when it comes to addressing sex in an arty way on film: it always turns into a bit of an excuse to do some well-photographed rumpy pumpy scenes with two good-looking actors, and as such fails to properly distance ourselves from the on-screen erotica to objectively judge what the film has to say. This is certainly a problem with Shame: were too interested in admiring the technique of this fine specimen of a man to worry about how this is all gnawing at him physically and psychologically. This wouldnt have been a problem if Brandon had been played by, say, Steve Buscemi. Fassbenders a brilliant actor, and gives a courageous performance in the film, but Im just trying to catch another envious glimpse of his German-Irish frankfurter.
The films problems are compounded when you think about the other dimension it presents itself as having: namely, that its as much about addiction as it is after sex. When you finish watching Trainspotting you dont want to then take some drugs in case a baby starts playing Spider-Man on your roof, and after The Lost Weekend I was scared to have a pint lest the cast of Tales from the Riverbank besieged my home. After watching Shame, I fancied a shag, and thats hardly the sign of a film putting you off the addiction it presents.
Its not that I thought Shame was a bad film: indeed there is much to recommend it. The art direction and cinematography presents a cool yet cold world with an alien sheen: an objectified and superficially beautified view of reality that reflects the way Brandon objectifies the various elements of his life to feed his lusts. Fassbender is brilliant, and so too is Carey Mulligan, cast against type in an emotionally raw, unstable and fractured performance thats probably the best thing shes done (and she can knock off a mean, sultry rendition of New York, New York). However, after the extraordinary image making of Hunger I really did expect more from Steve McQueens direction. Aside from the above bit when Mulligan sings, and the bit when Fassbender decides to eschew sex for a brisk late-night jog, and a suitably nightmarish descent into the maelstrom sequence before the dramatic backlash of the central brother/sister relationship kicks in (he cant engage emotionally with women, shes very needy, he subsequently is absent in his sisters hour of grave need), its all very uninspired, insipid, and safe. With such a deliberately vague and obscure narrative, in which little proactive drama or character history is supplied, one would expect mood, tone and detail to be found in subtly metaphorical imagery, but this is unfortunately lacking, and in tandem with the infuriating ambiguity of the drama makes for a rather superficial experience. Its all too neat, too obvious, too well-trodden. Like Brandons sex life, the film just casually, if eventfully, crawls from one episode to the next with little meaning or impact.
Lets get topical as a way of rounding things off. Im not surprised Fassbender isnt Oscar nominated for his performance in this: not because its not a great performance, because it very much is, but when even George Clooney is intimidated by your natural perks you know youre seriously risking alienation from the mainstream. And although Carey Mulligan has also been unfairly slighted by the awards circuit, at least we get to see her naked in this. I really wanted the film to be better than it was, but unfortunately it isnt better than it is, because its only as good as it is. That didnt make much sense, did it? Maybe too much sex is bad for you
Adam Hollingworth
Welcome Gemini!
Mark Twain: 'A lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.'
The story has now found it's way to an Irish paper and of course the NY Daily News.
To me, the 2010 script had more meat on its bones, even if a lot of the dialogue was clumsier than the final product. The first time I read it, I thought it was too " experimental indie". But then a later reread was a completely different experience and it lingered in my mind for awhile. Many parts of the new "script" read like a transcription of scenes that were improvised, but it also trims out some of the weaker plot points. In a perfect setting, it would have been a seamless marriage of both. Still, I find Shame, as it stands, a heck of an experience and disagree that they were disconnected vignettes that had no deeper meaning to them. I don't think there is right or wrong view on this though, as I totally get the argument that the movie is cold and distant and kept its viewer at bay.
SPOILER (?)
What do you guys think about their decision to omit the explicit references to their source of childhood sexual abuse?
END SPOILER
SPOILER (?)
What do you guys think about their decision to omit the explicit references to their source of childhood sexual abuse?
END SPOILER
SPOILER:
I read an early script. Not sure which version it was but in it Sissy asked Brandon something like, "did dad blah, blah, blah to you, too?". I don't remember the exact words but it was something along those lines. I read it after I'd seen the movie for the first time and I remember wishing that I knew something more about their background while watching it. It would've been nice to know for a fact that their was some sort of childhood sexual abuse. But perhaps Steve didn't want people focusing on the past sexual abuse aspect since the film's focus is Brandon's addiction and how it affects his life. Still, I would've liked to have known.
Peter Travers says: "Damn you, Oscars!!"
http://www.rollingstone.com/videos/...oscar-2012-peter-travers-is-outraged-20120125
http://www.rollingstone.com/videos/...oscar-2012-peter-travers-is-outraged-20120125
I don't remember reading about sexual abuse in the first script and I also never noticed the supposed incest tones either.
I do agree that the film is cold and distant in certain areas, but I actually didn't mind it. Of course if the lead actors had been of a lesser calibre than Michael, Carey, Nicole and James this film would have sucked big time. Michael has mentioned before how grateful he is to be able to work with Steve. I'm sure the feeling is mutual. If not, it should be, because Michael is Shame's saving grace.
The Sun writer, Gordon Smart, posted about the story on Twitter.
"@OliviaCole1 I know the guy who asked him to leave and have done for eight years. Richard Young witnessed it too."
Whatever, he wasn't violent and he may have been a little out of control, but he clearly wasn't THAT obnoxious.
The most ridiculous thing was the pot-shot about Carey looking uncomfortable at the London film critics awards. She was clearly fine with him in the video. Split-second photography made their interaction look more awkward than it actually was.
"@OliviaCole1 I know the guy who asked him to leave and have done for eight years. Richard Young witnessed it too."
Whatever, he wasn't violent and he may have been a little out of control, but he clearly wasn't THAT obnoxious.
The most ridiculous thing was the pot-shot about Carey looking uncomfortable at the London film critics awards. She was clearly fine with him in the video. Split-second photography made their interaction look more awkward than it actually was.
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