Saturday, September 29, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Oscar Watch: Spielberg's 'Lincoln' test screens in New Jersey
Lou Lumenick in the NY Post: Oscar Watch: Spielberg's 'Lincoln' test screens in New Jersey
Friday, September 21, 2012
Daniel Day-Lewis' Lincoln Transformation: "He Got Quite Thin and Gaunt"
Eonline: Daniel Day-Lewis' Transformation: "He Got Quite Thin and Gaunt"
"Obviously, we when cast Daniel we knew that in many respects, physically, he would look very much like Lincoln," Kennedy said. "But it was a combination of the work that was being done in the makeup and hair trailer and also what Daniel himself took on for the physical appearance. He got quite thin and gaunt. It was quite extraordinary to see him for the first time."
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Age of Innocence
Archer sat down on the bench and continued to gaze at the awninged
balcony. He calculated the time it would take his son to be carried up
in the lift to the fifth floor, to ring the bell, and be admitted to
the hall, and then ushered into the drawing-room. He pictured Dallas
entering that room with his quick assured step and his delightful
smile, and wondered if the people were right who said that his boy
"took after him."
Then he tried to see the persons already in the room--for probably at that sociable hour there would be more than one--and among them a dark lady, pale and dark, who would look up quickly, half rise, and hold out a long thin hand with three rings on it.... He thought she would be sitting in a sofa-corner near the fire, with azaleas banked behind her on a table.
"It's more real to me here than if I went up," he suddenly heard himself say; and the fear lest that last shadow of reality should lose its edge kept him rooted to his seat as the minutes succeeded each other.
He sat for a long time on the bench in the thickening dusk, his eyes never turning from the balcony. At length a light shone through the windows, and a moment later a man-servant came out on the balcony, drew up the awnings, and closed the shutters.
At that, as if it had been the signal he waited for, Newland Archer got up slowly and walked back alone to his hotel.
Then he tried to see the persons already in the room--for probably at that sociable hour there would be more than one--and among them a dark lady, pale and dark, who would look up quickly, half rise, and hold out a long thin hand with three rings on it.... He thought she would be sitting in a sofa-corner near the fire, with azaleas banked behind her on a table.
"It's more real to me here than if I went up," he suddenly heard himself say; and the fear lest that last shadow of reality should lose its edge kept him rooted to his seat as the minutes succeeded each other.
He sat for a long time on the bench in the thickening dusk, his eyes never turning from the balcony. At length a light shone through the windows, and a moment later a man-servant came out on the balcony, drew up the awnings, and closed the shutters.
At that, as if it had been the signal he waited for, Newland Archer got up slowly and walked back alone to his hotel.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Does Daniel Day-Lewis Sound Like Lincoln?
“Uncanny, convincing, and historically right,” Holzer told me. How so? Holzer pointed specifically to “the combined Kentucky-Hoosier twang” and, again, “the surprisingly high-pitched voice.” After all, as Holzer reaffirmed, “Lincoln didn’t growl—in fact some people said he whined!”
A Wave of Staggering Loss, in a Country Unprepared
The NY Times: PBS - Death and the Civil War - A Wave of Staggering Loss, in a Country Unprepared
Friday, September 14, 2012
'Lincoln' trailer: Know your Civil War history before watching Daniel Day-Lewis bring it to life
EW.com: [Thoughtful article on Lincoln and history] 'Lincoln' trailer: Know your Civil War history before watching Daniel Day-Lewis bring it to life
Thoughtful Quote by Daniel
"The West has always been the epicenter of possibility. One of the ways we forge against mortality is to head west. It's to do with catching the sun before it slips behind the horizon. We all keep moving toward the sun, wishing to get the last ray of hope before it sets."
Thanks to The IMDb
Thanks to The IMDb
'Lincoln' Trailer: Being Lincoln Is a Real Rough Time
I Watch Stuff: 'Lincoln' Trailer: Being Lincoln Is a Real Rough Time
In this full trailer for the film, first everyone yells at Lincoln, then Lincoln gets sick of it and starts yelling and finger-pointing back, then Tommy Lee Jones shows up and is like, "Hey, it's me. Tommy Lee Jones. Does this hair play?" But paired with a sweeping score, it all feels expectedly epic, harrowing, and triumphant. This thing is going to win so many small man statuettes.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Last of the Mohicans Quotes
"I have listened to all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will listen whose life and death depend on the quickness of his ears."
- James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans, Ch. 7
The vast canopy of woods spread itself to the margin of the river, overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a deeper hue. The rays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the cooler vapors of the springs and fountains rose above their leafy beds, and rested in the atmosphere. Still that breathing silence, which marks the drowsy sultriness of an American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot, interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the occasional and lazy tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry of some gaudy jay, or a swelling on the ear, from the dull roar of a distant waterfall. These feeble and broken sounds were, however, too familiar to the foresters to draw their attention from the more interesting matter of their dialogue. While one of these loiterers showed the red skin and wild accouterments of a native of the woods, the other exhibited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savage equipments, the brighter, though sun-burned and long-faced complexion of one who might claim descent from a European parentage.
The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were not concealed by his clothes, was like that of one who had known hardships and exertion from his earliest youth. His person, though muscular, was rather attenuated than full; but every nerve and muscle appeared strung and indurated by unremitted exposure and toil. He wore a hunting shirt of forest-green, fringed with faded yellow*, and a summer cap of skins which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore a knife in a girdle of wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments of the Indian, but no tomahawk. His moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the natives, while the only part of his under dress which appeared below the hunting-frock was a pair of buckskin leggings, that laced at the sides, and which were gartered above the knees, with the sinews of a deer. A pouch and horn completed his personal accouterments, though a rifle of great length**, which the theory of the more ingenious whites had taught them was the most dangerous of all firearms, leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the symptoms of habitual suspicion, his countenance was not only without guile, but at the moment at which he is introduced, it was charged with an expression of sturdy honesty.
The vast canopy of woods spread itself to the margin of the river, overhanging the water, and shadowing its dark current with a deeper hue. The rays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the cooler vapors of the springs and fountains rose above their leafy beds, and rested in the atmosphere. Still that breathing silence, which marks the drowsy sultriness of an American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded spot, interrupted only by the low voices of the men, the occasional and lazy tap of a woodpecker, the discordant cry of some gaudy jay, or a swelling on the ear, from the dull roar of a distant waterfall. These feeble and broken sounds were, however, too familiar to the foresters to draw their attention from the more interesting matter of their dialogue. While one of these loiterers showed the red skin and wild accouterments of a native of the woods, the other exhibited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savage equipments, the brighter, though sun-burned and long-faced complexion of one who might claim descent from a European parentage.
The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as were not concealed by his clothes, was like that of one who had known hardships and exertion from his earliest youth. His person, though muscular, was rather attenuated than full; but every nerve and muscle appeared strung and indurated by unremitted exposure and toil. He wore a hunting shirt of forest-green, fringed with faded yellow*, and a summer cap of skins which had been shorn of their fur. He also bore a knife in a girdle of wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments of the Indian, but no tomahawk. His moccasins were ornamented after the gay fashion of the natives, while the only part of his under dress which appeared below the hunting-frock was a pair of buckskin leggings, that laced at the sides, and which were gartered above the knees, with the sinews of a deer. A pouch and horn completed his personal accouterments, though a rifle of great length**, which the theory of the more ingenious whites had taught them was the most dangerous of all firearms, leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might be, was small, quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting the sudden approach of some lurking enemy. Notwithstanding the symptoms of habitual suspicion, his countenance was not only without guile, but at the moment at which he is introduced, it was charged with an expression of sturdy honesty.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
'Lincoln's' Seward: Part one of a conversation with David Strathairn about portraying Auburn's favorite son
'Lincoln's' Seward: Part one of a conversation with David Strathairn about portraying Auburn's favorite son
Seward
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Seward
Q. When you're acting next to someone with the presence of Daniel Day-Lewis, and on top of that he's playing Abraham Lincoln, did you ever find yourself swept up in the moment?Part Two HERE
A. Every day. The depth to which he inhabits the character, the minute details he pays attention to ... we were doing camera tests on the set taking place in the president's office, and there was a long hallway on the White House set. Daniel was on his way down a set of stairs down to that floor, and I was standing in the hallway as he came up stairs, and you saw the stovepipe hat. And he was back-lit, his silhouette had that perfect walk, and he was fully clothed in the president's clothes. It was the first time a lot of people in production had seen him in full regalia, and people were holding their breath because he has the height, his face has that structure. What the makeup people had done was just extraordinary. It was ghostly — it took you aback. Every day from then on, his investment and focus and how he conducted it throughout the day, each day, you realize you're in the presence of not only an extraordinary performance, but something other — the transformation had been made to one of those magical things that only the greatest actors can do. So yeah, there were quite a few moments.
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