dennis hopper Tagged Articles at Cinematical

The great opportunity with new presentation formats for established forms of entertainment is that newcomers can be introduced and experience them for the very first time; the burden with them is that longtime fans have to forage through multiple editions and decide which one is best. Enter "Making The (Up) Grade," Cinematical's examination of these new, alternate, special editions of films that have long since become favorites. This week's selection, Easy Rider, is one of those cases where people may or may not have purchased the film before, but because it's been so thoroughly discussed and dissected in cinematic culture for the past forty years, it seems almost a redundant choice for any person who considers him- or herself a cinephile.

Is this new 40th Anniversary Blu-ray really better? Let's take a look and see.

As if we needed yet another reason to do what we can to fight cancer. On top of the hundreds of thousands of cancer-related deaths the U.S. is plagued with every year, and just a short time after we lost Patrick Swayze to pancreatic cancer, The Associated Press (via Canoe) reports that two-time Oscar nominee Dennis Hopper has been diagnosed with prostate cancer.

The 73-year-old actor has canceled his travel plans, as well as his attendance at an exhibition of his artwork in Melbourne in order to focus on his treatment. Said treatment is said to be part of a "special program" at the University of Southern California, according to Hopper's manager, Sam Maydew, and they are "hoping for the best." That's not exactly an optimistic quote, which might not be so surprising. This news comes just days after the actor was hospitalized for "showing severe flulike symptoms" and getting treated for dehydration. If those symptoms were the cancer, that cannot be a good sign. And even if they were just the flu, that can't be good for his health and strength.

Nevertheless, we hope for the best and that Mr. Hopper makes a full and speedy recovery.

It wasn't until fairly recently that voice acting in video games was done by either no-name actors trying to pay the bills or B- and C-list actors who were, well, also trying to pay the bills. The Command and Conquer games began employing a mixed bag of actors in its 1999 iteration, Command and Conquer: Tiberian Sun, when they managed to snag Luke Skywalker's big daddy James Earl Jones, but otherwise continued casting random character actors like Udo Kier and Barry Corbin in future games like Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2.

Grand Theft Auto III changed the game, literally, with its roster of recognizable names and voices like Joe Pantoliano, Michael Madsen, Michael Rapaport, Debi Mazar, and Kyle MacLachlan all playing parts in the free-for-all crime cape that make Rockstar Games just that. With GTA III's massive sales and buzz (particularly from angry parents), the scene was set for Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, which boasted an over-the-top cast particularly appealing to its target audience: Dennis Hopper, Danny Trejo, Gary Busey, Lee Majors, Debbie Harry, Ray Liotta, Tom Sizemore, and Jenna Jameson, just to name a few.

For some reason best left to psychologists, there are people who are attracted to what I call ... sex creeps. This type of character goes beyond what is called jolie-laide in women, a term that directly translates to pretty-ugly, although is generally used to describe "unconventional" beauty. There's no real correlation between the jolie-laide and the sex creep. No, the sex creep is attractive but prone to certain, shall we say, peccadilloes that go beyond the pale -- dating blow-up dolls, crashing cars to get off, dabbling in experimental gynecology. These guys all slime their ways between the lines.

In any case, here are seven of my favorite sex creeps. You might also notice there's a certain director who shows up a few times on the list -- he's an honorary sex creep as well. I hope he takes his title in the complimentary manner in which it's given.

With the possible exception of the "zombie versus shark" scene in Lucio Fulci's Zombi (coming soon), there may be no greater scene in film history than the exchange between Christopher Walken and Dennis Hopper at the midpoint of True Romance. Hyperbole aside, it's the kind of scene that true cinephiles salivate over the prospect of, and no doubt that actors dream of performing: two great personalities locked into a magical rhythm, creating character and making history even as they seemingly talk about a whole lot of nothin'.

The first time I saw True Romance was during its theatrical run, when I invited two female friends unfamiliar with Quentin Tarantino to see the film with me. While they were shellshocked by the abundance of profanity and violence the film contained, I was endlessly captivated – perversely so – with Tarantino's indefatigable penchant for crafting clever, memorable dialogue that celebrated itself as much as the films and pop culture highlights to which it referred. But even having been a longtime devotee of Reservoir Dogs – which to this critic remains his best-ever work – I was unprepared for this scene between Walken and Hopper, two acting masters, as they slowly and subtly engaged in a power struggle that would necessarily – if satisfyingly – end in cathartic tragedy.

Ironically, the sequence is only tangentially connected to the main narrative, a love story between a comic book store clerk and a call girl who accidentally stumble across a small fortune in drugs. Walken plays Vincent Coccotti, a mob boss who stumbles across Clifford Worley (Hopper) while looking for the former cop's son. Coccotti initially exerts physical pressure on Worley to reveal the wherabouts of his son, but as Worley realizes that he's in a no-win situation whatever he tells Coccotti, he decides to tell the Mafioso a story that will provoke his adversary without necessarily having to compromise his dignity, much less his son's location.

Hey, speaking of The Hangover (weren't we?), the 11th annual CineVegas Film Festival kicked off last night at Planet Hollywood, on the world-famous, super-classy, not-at-all-gaudy Las Vegas Strip. The setting was a large theater above the casino floor that normally hosts a live production called Peepshow, the posters for which emphasize its primary assets and boobsets.

But the showgirls had the night off, and CineVegas took over. Festival chairman Dennis Hopper kicked off the event in true Vegas style, rising from a trapdoor in the stage to the accompaniment of "Born to Be Wild." I noted that he pronounces the festival's name "sinny-vegas," rather than "sin-uh-vegas." His version sounds more cheerful. Vegas is sinny! Come visit!

The opening-night film, a comedy called Saint John of Las Vegas, was introduced by its writer/director, Hue Rhodes, who reiterated Sinny City's showbiz roots. Good or bad, funny or serious, scary or tame, Las Vegas is all about puttin' on a show. He said that his own film "is not always gonna be a safe ride," but assured us it would be a crazy one.

Which it is. Steve Buscemi (pictured) stars as a former gambler who now works at an insurance agency and must return to Vegas to investigate a possibly fraudulent insurance claim. What's interesting, perhaps, is that the movie is set up as a parallel to Dante's Divine Comedy: Buscemi's character's last name is Alighieri, same as Dante's, and his partner is named Virgil; they encounter people and situations similar to those described in the old Italian poem you were supposed to have read in high school. Buscemi and co-star Romany Malco are good, of course, but the film feels slight and forgettable. I wonder if greater familiarity with Inferno would increase one's enjoyment of it. Curse my inattentiveness in eleventh-grade English!

I really loved the first Speed movie. You had Keanu before he became Keanu, and Bullock before she became Sandra Bullock -- it was simply a nice, refreshing on-screen duo featuring two actors we didn't quite know yet and a villain played by one we already loved. Speed 2: Electric Cruise Ship Boogaloo? Not so much. And even though the sequel wasn't nearly as successful as the first (partly because the story was absurd, and partly because Keanu was replaced by Jason Patric), folks still talked about a third installment in the series -- so much so that The Guardian even announced last year that Dennis Hopper had a role in it. Weird, I know, considering the ending of the first flick, but who knows what these Hollywood types have up their sleeves.

Which brings us to today and yet another Speed 3 rumor. This time, AICN has received a message from one of their sources that says a scriptment for the sequel is floating around and it reintroduces the Jack Traven character, played by Keanu Reeves. And yes, the studio would like to talk Reeves back into starring. No word on whether Bullock would play leading lady (what else does she have to do?), but something tells me folks would rather Keanu if they had a choice between the two, hence Speed 2: Keanu-less Water Park Nightmare.

What say you? Speed 3 with Keanu? You down for it? And did the film Crank already give us the best possible Speed 3 premise?

Would you have ever imagined that Dennis Hopper, the writer and director of Easy Rider, would one day write and direct a seven-minute commercial for an ultra-chic and pricey ladies handbag? No? Me neither.

Above you can check out his short film commercial called Pashmy Dream. Gwyneth Paltrow stars as herself, meeting a sexy journalist for an interview amidst a troupe of clowns and performers. But then the dreaded paparazzi descend upon her and she scurries off without her Tod's Pashmy bag (the horror!), leaving the journalist to rush to get it back to her. Hopper says of the commercial: "Cinderella has her shoe. Gwyneth has her Tod's Pashmy bag." But unlike Cinderella, Gwyneth still gets red carpets versus dirty floors and rags.

If you exchanged the bag for some retro-wear, and added drugs into the mix, it would be slightly reminiscent of Rider, but it's still a fashion commercial. What do you think? Sound off below.

[via Just Jared]

I'm not partial to overtly subjective reviews, yet I can't seem to find any better way of relating my response to Isabel Coixet's latest film, Elegy, an adaptation of Philip Roth's novel "The Dying Animal," which follows the romance between a college professor and his much younger former student. First, though, a note of appropriateness: early in the film, this professor, the Roth regular David Kepesh, who previously appeared in the novels "The Breast" and "The Professor of Desire," is lecturing about how literature, specifically Tolstoy's "War and Peace," will be appreciated differently by a reader at different points in his or her life. In ten years, for example, it may seem like a new book entirely.

Perhaps in ten years, then, or more likely in thirty, I will be able to watch Elegy again and have a new perspective. Maybe I will be able to relate to Kepesh, here portrayed by Ben Kingsley, when I am in my sixties and have similarly lived and experienced as much. Yet the fact that Coixet's film is so depressing makes me almost hope that I never actually live so long to find out. I should have known, what with the filmmaker's past films, such as My Life Without Me, with their gray atmospheres and dreary dealings with illness and death. While appearing on the outside to be a sexy drama about how one lecherous old man discovers love, Elegy is on the inside really just a slow, uninteresting depiction of a selfish fool who possibly too-late realizes that he's grown old before he's actually grown up.

Hell Ride is a deliberate, calculated throwback, referencing and recycling the cheapie bike-sploitation flicks of the '60s and early '70s as a band of burly brothers roar, rage and ride their way through the American Southwest on a rampage of revenge. Written by, directed by and starring Larry Bishop, Hell Ride thrums and roars with attitude; problem is, the drive shaft components of plot and character and logic just aren't there, meaning that even when Bishop hits the throttle, the roar and rattle can't hide the fact nothing's really happening.

Hell Ride revolves around a cycle gang known as The Victors, led by Pistolero (Bishop), with the tuxedo-shirt clad The Gent (Michael Madsen) riding on his right and recent inductee Comanche (Eric Balfour) an up-and-coming lieutenant in the organization, on his left. The Victors are trying to take care of business -- although what business it is they're in is never quite explained -- and the only thing interfering with that is Pistolero's obsession with righting the wrong done decades ago to Cherokee Kisum (Julia Jones), slain on the 4th of July in 1976. The Gent and Comanche are rubbed the wrong way by Pistolero's campaign of retribution, especially with the Six-Six-Six'ers and their kill-crazy leader Billy Wings (Vinnie Jones) edging in on Victors turf. ...