So presumably everybody else knew about this, then…
Yeah it’s the same guy. Apparently he won the Best Actor award at the Manhattan Film Festival last year for his part as a German in 1940s Russia in a film called Under Jakob’s Ladder. Well I never.
While writing a short piece for Little White Lies magazine recently about the German director’s latest film (the excellent death row doc Into The Abyss), I remembered the time he was shot mid-interview by a madman in L.A. with an air rifle. Confirming his reputation as a badass extraordinaire, he barely bats an eyelid. Here it is:
Here’s three-and-a-half minutes of four furious, tattooed men slowing down to accommodate a confused Elliott Gould lookalike. Oh yeah, it’s directed by the man behind Black Swan akaThe Fame That Rocks The Cradle. What’s going on?
Ask yourself: What if the original inspiration behind Jay-Z’s oversuccessful brand of gambino gangsta rap was none other than the diminutive Joe Pesci? Well, check this unbelievable piece of evidence and get your mind blown.
Yes, Joe Pesci, in his Nicky Santoro satin suits and 70s collar, raps and reps over a sample of Blondie’s Rapture – and means it. As if that wasn’t enough, he’s drafted in his then-girlfriend Naomi Campbell (yep, as PPH has already dutifully reported, it happened) as the video vixen, as well as go-to mafioso Frank motherfucking Vincent as a hype man.
So Jay-Z, even if you can boast Harvey Keitel and Versace shades in your wiseguy videoes, you will never reach the levels of sheer wiseguyness exhibited in this gem.
Addendum: he actually released an album entitled Vincent Laguardia Gambini Sings Just For You, featuring such gems as ‘Take Your Love And Shove It’.
A short while ago on PPH, we brought you the news that, at last, rollerskating’s Cliff Richard was to star in a ribald sex comedy with Danny Dyer. We thanked our lucky stars, and dared not dream it could get any better for the British film industry which, according to the Guardian, is experiencing a golden age.
In its article, the Guardian failed to mention Run For Your Wife. But its oversights didn’t end there. It also somehow neglected to cite the upcoming Kill Keith, which (as a number of publications have already revealed, I’m sure) features TV personality and erstwhile Naked Jungle host Keith Chegwin embarking on a murderous rampage as he tries to kill off celebrities such as Tony Blackburn, Joe Pasquale and Vanessa Feltz.
The truth is, I have to go out now, and I’ve already stretched this item as far as it can go. So I’ll leave you with the film’s QT-aping poster and its marvellously unattributed poster quote.
Rip Torn, as a friend of mine has pointed out repeatedly, is perhaps the only living man whose second name represents the direct consequence of performing the action indicated by his first name. [Email me if you can think of any others].
He is also, even by Hollywood standards, a grade-A nutter. His famed turn as the vicious wheelchair-bound dodgeball coach Patches O’Houlihan in, er, Dodgeball is, like a man seeking the doctor’s opinion after lowering himself too vigorously onto a lettuce, just the tip of the iceberg.
A fan of the sauce, Torn is a repeat offender, with multiple arrests for drink driving to his credit as well as a spectacular incident in 2010, in which he broke into a closed bank (in the alleged belief that it was his own house) brandishing a loaded firearm.
Lesser known to many, however, are the lengths to which Torn will take his method acting. In the following clip from Norman ‘The White Negro’ Mailer’s 1970 oddity Maidstone Torn, unhappy with Mailer’s direction, sets about his head with a hammer, prompting a gloriously bloody, homoerotic writhe in the grass, replete with proto-Tyson ear-munching and accidental boom mike infringement. Amazingly, the improvised altercation actually made it into the final cut. It is a genuine “is this really happening?” moment. Enjoy:
My thanks go out to Cal King for pointing out that this all actually happened.
Jesus tittyfucking Christ. We are sooo far through the looking glass with this that it’s simply beyond ironizing or discussing in any great detail. Just watch:
Vice have put together a short documentary about the views of a disparate collection of oddballs on the forthcoming Royal Wedding. Many of the participants are generally repellent, insane, deluded or a combination of all three (apart from the porn stars and the anarchists – you don’t get to say that very often), but special mention must be given to Corgi-munching artist Mark McGowan, whose protest against said wedding consists of setting fire to a puppet that looks alarmingly like Franklin, the jive-talking dummy from Arrested Development.
Amusing and oddly compelling, Royal Wedding is well worth a gander.
It would be folly, and not a little dishonest, to suggest that this post has anything to do with Permanent Plastic Helmet’s film-specific remit. As a culturally sensitive individual, however, I think it’s only right that I bring to your attention the earth-shaking news that, as hinted at in the title, ART ATTACK HOST AND ALL-ROUND MAN-OF-THE-NINETIES NEIL BUCHANAN (also, incidentally, not dead) IS IN A HEAVY METAL BAND CALLED MARSEILLE!
“Ner-ner. Nerrrrrrr-ner-ner.”
More information, should you seek it, can be found on the band’s rather garish official website. Some choice cuts include:
“Marseille were originally called AC/DC! In their formative years playing the club circuit in Liverpool Marseille used the name AC/DC until Angus and crew exploded on the UK rock scene in 1976. In awe of the aussies from down under, the band promptly renamed themselves Marseille in mid-1976. We still remain in awe of the aussie rockers to this day!!”
“The band had a brief chart success in the early 80’s when their melodic rock single Over and Over charted at No.31. Marseille frequently topped the heavy metal charts with various tracks from their albums. Their anthemic single Do It The French Way was also used as a soundtrack to a French soft porn movie!”
In the canon of secret careers, this is a revelation right up there with Adam Woodyatt (Ian Beale)’s other life as a respected digital photographer (I shit you not).
What kind of film is Under The Cherry Moon? The kind you’d find in a second hand store.
Here’s a clip, if you need proof that this actually really happened. In this scene, Prince has turned up one of his songs really loud, and forgotten to turn it off, while the cinematographer has a seizure, zooming in and out with gay abandon, presumably caused by an allergic reaction to the stilted acting and knuckle-suckingly banal script.