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Showing posts with label Viggo Mortensen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Viggo Mortensen. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2009

Josh Olson..."History of Violence" screenwriter appears at screening @ New Beverly Cinema!



Last night at the New Beverly Cinema screenwriter Josh Olson delighted local filmgoers when he appeared to kick off a week-long festival of films he hand-picked for the occasion.

Right off the bat, during an intro to - "A History of Violence" - the outgoing writer confided to the rapt audience that initially he didn't think he'd land the job to adapt the graphic novel for the big screen.

In fact, it was only with the help of a former agent's assistant, that he managed to wiggle his way through the front gates of Paraount Studios to pitch an idea to the "suits" who - he was told - would probably turn him down hands flat.

"Since I didn't think I'd get the job, I decided to do something wild. I just pitched the title and the backbone of the story."

Surprisingly, the suits at Paramount bought the idea and signed him on.

The script took about six weeks to draft.

And, in spite of the short time-frame to pen the material ("Violence" was his first stab at a studio feature) - only two notes were handed down from the Executive Suite.

"They cut a paragraph from one monologue because they thought it was too long. Also, I was asked to change a character's name because one of the top brass didn't like the one I chose, Gary."

He beamed when he recalled that the film was ready to screen at Cannes Film Festival just a year later.

"Everything was quick and smooth with the production," he noted proudly.

The wrangling for a director was a bit touchy, though.

"Some of the choices were scary," he laughed.

So, Olson pushed for David Cronenberg who was itching to do a studio project.

But, Paramount was worried because Cronenberg had only turned out a handful of small arty films over the years which hadn't made any money.

"I was ready to go, but they were still dickering over directors, which was frustrating."

Although the Oscar-nominated screenwriter appeared to be a pretty mild-mannered easy-going earth dude last night in the floodlights - when push came to shove - he had the gumption to stand his ground.

"I called up every day screaming for Cronenberg!"

Finally, Paramount relented, and the quirky director was signed on.

I was about to ask Olson if he had any actors in mind when he was penning the script, but before I could pose the question, he noted of his own accord that Viggo Mortensen was always his first choice for the lead.

"Maria Bello was better than any actress I could have thought of," he added with smug satisfaction.

When I asked Olson if he felt he needed to give notes to the actors - or have discussions with the director about creative decisions on set during production - his response was an emphatic no.

"David doesn't need anyone to tell him what to do. In fact, he doesn't work from storyboards at all. He walks in and figures out how he'll shoot it on the spot."

Maybe that is why the film is flawed.

The opening scenes dragged a lot, for instance.

To me, there was an excessive amount of footage wasted setting up part one of the feature.

In fact, "Violence" never really sizzled or got off the ground until Sam Harris' threatening character made his first entrance.

One fan in the audience pointed out that the fight scenes were pretty realistic, though; I wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment, too.

The believable dialogue tumbled out at a good pace and didn't hit one false note, either.

Olson laughed when he recalled that during a passionate love scene on a stairwell, Viggo needed knee pads to ease the pain a little.

"I think I saw a little tail, too," Olson chuckled in reference to a shot of the actor's naked butt captured from behind during the throes of lovemaking.

The interviewer at the Q & A - obviously straight as an arrow - laughed.

"I don't know. I wasn't looking THAT closely."

I expect now my gay readers will be dashing off to rent the video - so they can rewind it incessantly - to catch the titillating clip in the event the writer's memory rings true.

Actually, "The History of Violence" was the last project at Paramount to be released on VHS.

"Yeah, we killed the medium," Josh chortled to a round of applause.

To get an "R" rating, some of the blood was cleaned up digitally, apparently.

Actually, about two-thirds of the original material in John Warren's book was left out.

A flashback was cut, for instance. And, so was a bloody dream sequence.

"I met John (author) at the premiere and he said he liked my version better than the book."

Olson noted that until "Violence" happened along, he'd only written a couple of junky things.

"Not worth mentioning," he asserted matter-of-fact.

The talented man - obviously, with a bright future - is either very humble or unaware that to film historians a body of work is helpful in getting a fix on an artist and their stages of creative development.

As to future projects, Olson was enthusiastic about "One Shot".

And, revealed that he was all fired up about doing a sequel to the "Wizard of Oz".

Was he joking?

Surely, Mr. Olson knows better than to tamper with the classics.

Who knows, just maybe, he has the magic touch capable of leading him down the yellow brick road to the Emerald City on that curious project.

And, a place in cinematic history.

But, if the ending of "Violence" is any indication, things may not pan out with the critics.

The closing scenes for the Cronenberg feature, after all, were too "open-ended".

"One critic in Cannes accused us of tacking on a Hollywood ending."

Well, that assessment was definitely off-base.

If anything, it smacked of one thing for sure, though.

"Lazy filmmaking."

Before ending the Q & A, Olson urged everyone to stick around and take in "Straw Dogs" on the second bill.

"I probably shouldn't say this, but at the time he shot this film, I think Peckinpaw had serious issues with women which ended up on screen, unintentionallly."

In an afterthought, Olson also noted that the Peckinpaw potboiler was a cringing example of the male id let loose on the screen.

Mr. Olson will be in attendance at the New Beverly Cinema throughout the week as he continues to hold court with some insightful discussions on favorite films such as Ed Wood, Problem Child, A Boy and his Dog, The Day the Earth Caught Fire, Exorcist III, and the Ninth Configuration.

See 'ya there!

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Eastern Promises...worst movie of year, insult to AIDS victims


Earlier in the week, the LA TIMES featured a behind-the-scenes look at David Cronenberg's new film - Eastern Promises.

Obviously the detailed account of a fight scene with Viggo Mortensen in a bathhouse scene was a bold-faced effort by the producers to create some buzz for the film prior to the Nationwide release on Friday.

The reporter, Gina Piccalo, duly noted that Cronenberg captured every clammy square inch of Mortensen's well-toned flesh as it was pummeled and slashed and slammed into the unforgiving bathhouse tiles by two clothed real-life professional fighters, turning an otherwise excruciating four minutes of film into a quintessential Cronenberg statement.

For example, in the Times article, the Hollywood director excitedly recalled that he told the actor he wanted realism and body-ness in the key scene, so that the audience would be challenged to really experience the intimacy of such violence.

Intimacy of violence?

Well, there wasn't much intimacy, or common sense, or realism - for that matter - anywhere is this big-budget clunker.

In fact, even in the fight scenes - if you really want to get down to the nitty-gritty - it's obvious to any fool the shots were cleverly orchestrated and edited with razor-sharp precision to ensure that the body-ness he referred to - in particular that of Mortensen's male organs - were safely out of harm's way.

Let me be the first to tell you...Eastern Promises doesn't deliver on any artistic or intellectual level.

If this is supposed to be a feature in the suspense, or political spy-thriller genre, then Cronenberg managed to break the mould.

All that's left here are jagged pieces on the movie house floor, for audiences to grasp at - like straws!

In fact, one critic's wild comparisons to the "Godfather" are ludicrous; after all, there is no brilliance on the silver screen here, no groundbreaking filmmaking, no magic.

How would that be possible without a quality, well-written script?

And, without any insightful, talented director at the helm?

In a nutshell, the plot focuses on a young woman who stumbles into a hospital bleeding, who dies in childbirth.

A copious review of her diary reveals that she was raped, and forced into prostitution and drugs, by the nefarious Russian Mafia in London.

Heady stuff!

In an effort to save the child, Naomi Watts' character is forced to pursue the matter, and does so - albeit - hesitantly.

Although she holds her head high with some convincing acting, she basically goes down with the ship, what I would refer to as a ceremonial barge.

For starters, the dialogue is stilted, off its mark, and downright cliche.

Because Mortensen has delivered high-caliber performances on screen numerous occasions in the past - it is somewhat disappointing to find a shell of his former acting self - trussed up thick in this turkey...the worst movie of the year.

For all the brouhaha in the press, the film is a total washout!

Quintessential statement? Bull****.

Notwithstanding, the twisted tale's obvious flaws, it manages to go one step farther and takes a swipe a class of people who did not deserve the slap in the face.

For instance, when the Chauffeur played by Mortensen is asked to explain what lies were being spread about his son which warranted a gang-style murder, he offers up this little gem: "...they said he was queer".

Oh, gee, Then string him up by the *****, right now. He deserves a lynching, man.

Worse than that (If I didn't hear it with my very own ears, I wouldn't believe it) in one scene when the police arrive to test a lead character's blood to establish fatherhood, he gazes at his arm distastefully after he's been poked with the needle and mutters, "Now am I going to get the gay disease?"

That was not only a shocking, disgusting remark, but an insult to terminally-ill AIDS patients suffering from the incurable disease around the globe - and the thousands of health-care workers who toil endlessly on their behalf not only to prolong their lives but to ensure in their last days they are treated with dignity and respect.

The disgusting remarks, and the scripted messages in the plot line, were senseless, irresponsible, and ugly.

Which inspires me to beg the question...

Will the Producers admit their mistake and make an apology to the millions of infected Aids patients around the globe who were the target of their hateful innuendos for no good reason?

It is difficult to fathom how the Studio Execs overlooked one vital fact in the screening room: their film is a stinker.

Yeah, there's no originality, no clever or imaginative storytelling device, no nothing.

Eastern Promises?

That you will walk out of the Theatre offended, like I was.
 
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