Do you realize that every time you read a book without pictures you become a production designer, casting director, and costume designer? Hell, you can be a director if you want to. Whether you know it or not, when you read a book without pictures, your brain fills in the blank spots. You can see the people, how they are dressed, which way they are moving, and what it looks like around them. Neat, huh?... (read more: click \'Introduction\' on menu above)

Archive for August, 2009

Olly Olly Oxen Free

Posted by admin On August - 25 - 2009


I am often asked, with all the pictures I’ve done what my favorite is. It has to be this one. Look at my record; Nuclear destruction of the world, an insane western, another insane piece set in an insane asylum. (There’s a poetic fit for you.), a river boat – whore house, black exploitation pictures, and God only knows how many murders I have helped create.

Now my dear friend, Richard Colla comes to me with a script. “Here,” he says, “this is a lovely little fairy tale starring two little boys, a dog, a hot air balloon, and, oh yes, Katharine Hepburn. Of course I’m directing, and we’re a team. If there is ever going to be a memory buster in your life, this will be it.”

The script was super. The actors were super. The feeling on the set was super. It was a picture about love and respect. It was a picture about trust and wisdom. It was a picture that had me at “fade in”.

The world just isn’t ready for “G” rated picture. . .

You’ll have to rent it, though I suppose it’s still on late night someplace.


Posted by admin On August - 24 - 2009

Just knowing Anne Bancroft was such a thrill for me. But to work with her was icing on the cake. I have been in love with her, seems like all my life. Still am, even though she’s no longer with us. She and Mel were the perfect couple; an Italian Catholic and a Jew. A match made in heaven.

And who knew Dom Deluise was such a good actor?

fatso movie poster small

Original Trailer for Fatso:

Harvey Korman & the Teutonic Twat

Posted by admin On August - 22 - 2009

A short video about Harvey Korman and the Teutonic Twat…

…Out on the Edge of Nowhere

Posted by admin On August - 14 - 2009

It’s night. A dark, hot, dusty, and lonely night. Out on the edge of Lagos, Nigeria, you might as well be on the edge of nowhere.

You’ve been drinking Cognac in a dive called the Bamboo Cabin, and it’s time to get out of there. The natives are getting as restless as you are. You’re waiting. It seems you’re always waiting. But the cognac has started to kick in, and it’s good to be alone. The shortcut back to the flat is dark, no moon, no ambient light. The trail through the bush is dusty, and the shapes of the trees are close and menacing. Ahead, a fire in a steel drum as blazing, and two figures moving around it cause shadows to dig into shadows.

The smoke brings with it the smell of meat being hopelessly burned. You stop at the fire even though the heat adds to the oppressiveness. The men by the fire seem friendly, chattering away in Yoruba and laughing. If they notice your whiteness, they don’t show it. A brief negotiation, and for one nira, dinner is served. Burnt meat, onion, tomato, and bread wrapped in a newspaper you can’t read, and you burrow back into the darkness.

Back at the flat you peel off the wet shirt and kick off the hiking boots, causing a small dust cloud. The flat: one room, linoleum floor, four bare and dirty mattresses in a row. One window with a screen over it. The screen is not there to keep out flies and mosquitoes, that’s impossible. Instead, it keeps out foot-long lizards. Fifteen or twenty are hanging there, eyeing the rolled up newspaper. Or is it you?

One candle on the floor standing on the remains of other candles and other nights makes the room bounce in its flicker. A warm bottle of Star Beer, Nigeria’s finest, sits among a half-dozen empties. In your camera bag is an opener, and you find it by feel.

You open the beer, spread out the newspaper you can’t read on the floor, check out the lizards one more time, sit on the edge of the mattress, and begin to chew the meat.

For a fleeting moment there is the lonely realization that no one in the world knows where you are. You push the thought away and you eat.