auteur

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The Elephant Man | David Lynch | 1980

Vintage press kit for the 1980 film. With 11 black and white single weight photographs (including Paramount folding snipes), a 40-page booklet, and 9 press release groupings (biographies, essays, factual notes). Housed in the original illustrated card folder and with the original mailing envelope.

Adapted from Frederick Treves’ “The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences” (1923) and Ashley Montagu’s “The Elephant Man: A Study in Human Dignity” (1971), both accounts of Joseph Merrick, a severely deformed man living in Victorian era London. Shot in black and white.

I have nothing against Kanye West. Help me with this—I’m not dissing him—this is about how people talk about him. With the last album he did, he got all the best beatmakers on the planet at the time to make beats for him. A lot of the time, he wasn’t even there. Yet no one would question his authorship for a second. If whatever I’m saying to you now helps women, I’m up for saying it. For example, I did 80% of the beats on Vespertine and it took me three years to work on that album, because it was all microbeats—it was like doing a huge embroidery piece. Matmos came in the last two weeks and added percussion on top of the songs, but they didn’t do any of the main parts, and they are credited everywhere as having done the whole album. [Matmos’] Drew [Daniel] is a close friend of mine, and in every single interview he did, he corrected it. And they don’t even listen to him. It really is strange.
—  Björk on the struggle of female auteurship
Mulholland Drive is Lynchian—the creation of an artist so unique that his work can in no way be pigeonholed. And Lynch himself would probably not consider it a horror film either; he considers it more of a “love story.” But my own nightmares suggest otherwise; no other film manages to give me bad dreams as consistently as this film does. That’s because, along with its genuinely impressive scares and its expertly mounting sense of dread, Mulholland Drive, like the best horror films, gets at the most unsettling of existential fears—that the world we imagine ourselves living in is an illusion, and that we have no control over our fates.
—  Bilge Ebiri, Slate
Ils pleurent.
Elle dit, elle demande :
- On ne se reverra jamais. Jamais ?
- Jamais
- A moins que …
- Non.
- On oubliera.
- Non
- On fera l’amour avec d’autres gens ?
- Oui.
Les pleurs. Ils pleurent, très bas.
- Et puis un jour on aimera d’autres gens.
- C’est vrai.
Silence. Ils pleurent.
- Puis un jour on parlera de nous, avec des nouvelles personnes, on racontera comment c’était.
- Et puis un autre jour, plus tard, beaucoup plus tard, on écrira l’histoire.
- Je ne sais pas.
Ils pleurent.
- Et un jour on mourra.
- Oui. L’amour sera dans le cercueil avec les corps.
- Oui. Il y aura les livres au-dehors du cercueil.
- Peut-être. On ne peut pas encore savoir.
Le Chinois dit :
- Si, on sait. Qu’il y aura des livres, on sait. Ce n’est pas possible autrement.
—  Marguerite Duras - L’Amant de la Chine du Nord
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I started this project in June 2012 via Tumblr. Titled cineminimized (or simply Cine Mini), the project aims to recreate movie characters (and later on tv characters, musicians, artists, and other pop culture icons) using a signature minimalist style. The style is inspired by Lego figures, the Russian matryoshka dolls, and the kawaii aesthetics of Japanese anime.

Check all the cinema legends (and more) minimized here!