Tag: Stephen Frears (1-4 of 4)
Signature yellow jersey, branded cap, and steely look of determination — here’s Ben Foster in full costume in this first look at the upcoming biopic about disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong.
Director Stephen Frears’ still untitled film began production at the end of last week. With a supporting cast including Chris O’Dowd (Bridesmaids) as Irish sports journalist David Walsh, Jesse Plemons (Breaking Bad) as one of Armstrong’s fellow cyclists, and Guillaume Canet (Love Me If You Dare) as one of Armstrong’s rivals, the film will depict Armstrong’s rise and fall with a script penned by John Hodge of Trainspotting fame.
Frears’ Armstrong flick isn’t the only one in the works. Director Jay Roach is attached to Red Blooded American starring Bradley Cooper, while J.J. Abrams is also planning a film about the cyclist. As if that’s not enough Armstrong, Alex Gibney’s documentary, The Armstrong Lie, will be getting limited release starting Nov. 8 and has already made the rounds at worldwide film festivals.
Catherine Zeta-Jones is the kind of actress who can throw a dagger stare better than most, and she does — with her hair fluffed up, her cleavage bared like a trashy Amazon — as Tulip, a gambler’s wife, in this exclusive clip from Stephen Frears’ new film Lay the Favorite, co-starring Bruce Willis, Vince Vaughn, Joshua Jackson, and Rebecca Hall. The movie comes out on VOD Nov. 2, and in theaters Dec. 7.
The object of Zeta-Jones’ competitive evil eye? Hall (The Town), playing pretty and bright-eyed Las Vegas gal Beth, taken under the wing of Tulip’s gambler hubby Dink, played by Willis. “Hi, I’m Beth,” says Hall, innocently plunging out her hand for a handshake. “You’re Beth?” bemuses Zeta-Jones, circling her like a shark wearing lipstick. “Uh-huh,” says Hall, to which Zeta-Jones only replies with a one-word “Oh.” READ FULL STORY
Cannes: A fake crowd-pleaser from Stephen Frears and a true one -- surprise -- from Abbas Kiarostami
Every movie I’ve seen at Cannes this year — including Mike Leigh’s Another Year, which is almost universally admired — has been met, at best, with polite applause. That is, until I saw Tamara Drewe, Stephen Frears’ rotely cheeky, Anglo-plastic, eagerly innocuous adultery comedy. At the end of the screening in the Grand Théâtre Lumiére (I was seated in the huge, dramatically sloping balcony), the crowd around me erupted into applause, and then started to clap along with the cheesy-catchy rock song that played over the closing credits. I no longer felt like I was at Cannes; I felt like I was in the Catskills. Why the ovation? Tamara Drewe is this festival’s equivalent of a Sundance crowd-pleaser: a movie that makes a few quirky nods towards artistry, but is really, at heart, a mediocre television show, full of glib characters who don’t ring true. Plainly, the longing for this sort of movie is now an international phenomenon. READ FULL STORY
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