Stanley Kubrick
 
I like these mash-up wooden sculptures of Hollywood film directors by artist Mike Leavitt. If you notice, each sculpture references movies the director made. The directors are in the details i.e. Stanley Kubrick’s eyelashes referencing A Clockwork Orange or Hitchcock carved as a bird. 

Each sculpture measures around 18 inches in height. Now as to whether or not these are for sale… I simply don’t know. You can contact Mike Leavitt at his site here to find out. You can also follow Leavitt on his Instagram to see his work in progress. 

 

Alfred Hitchcock
 

An unfinished Quentin Tarantino
 
More after the jump…
 

The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980) neon movie poster
 
Using the art of “one point perspective” (an approach to art that began as early as the 15th century in Europe that utilizes a “vanishing point” on the horizon point of the image) two Italian twin brothers (working under the moniker Van Orton Design) took on the task of digitally reimagining movie posters based on cult films from directors like Dario Argento and Wes Anderson, in vivid electric neon color schemes.
 

Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977)
 

Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)
 
Although the twins used modern methods to obtain their striking results, there is a distinct old-school feel to their posters that homage some of cinema’s greatest achievements of the past 50 years. The brothers, who appear to prefer to remain nameless and obscure their faces with masks, have also managed to have the films be seen through fresh eyes due to their unique presentation and interpretation of different, unforgettable scenes in the films themselves. Such as the moment Marcellus Wallace unfortunately strolled in front of the beat up Honda that Butch Coolidge was driving in Pulp Fiction (pictured above) before everything goes to shit for both of them. Bonus? A few of the twins’ prints and other works are available for purchase, here. Many images that may require sunglasses (or an extra tab of LSD in your morning coffee if that’s how you roll) to maximize your enjoyment, follow.
 
h/t: Design Boom
 

The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson, 2014)
 

2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
 
More after the jump…

Martine Johanna, “Oh..Margot”
 
I once heard someone refer to Wes Anderson’s films as “expensive dollhouses,” which, while bitingly pointed, I find a little harsh. For one thing, I think Rushmore is a masterpiece, and even if his later films don’t possess whatever intangible quality I loved most about Rushmore, they’re obviously not throwaways. For another, while the uncannily warm, color-corrected tableaux of Anderson’s later work can be a bit twee, they’re undeniably beautiful and intense—and who doesn’t love a good dollhouse? Nonetheless, there is an aesthetic cult around Anderson’s work that goes way past appreciation and borders on corny. You know the crowd; ukuleles, cardigans, deep in pouty ennui, only know the really pretty Velvet Underground songs (and can play them on the ukulele). They’re not hard to pick out of a crowd, and now they’re featuring their Wes Anderson-themed art in serious gallery shows.

The Anderson-inspired art show, titled “Bad Dads”—I presume in reference to his constant theme of disappointing paternal figures—started in San Francisco in 2010, and was originally advertised as an art show/costume party (imagine a million girls dressed as Margot Tenenbaum trying to look sullen, yet beautiful, ugh). The show proved so popular that it’s now going on its sixth run, this time at the Joseph Gross Gallery in NYC. Below you can see art from the upcoming feature, as well as work from previous events, some of which has already sold for a pretty penny.

I’m torn, because not only is it an interesting experiment to take what is essentially fan art out of the DeviantArt ghetto and put it into the “respectable” art world (and don’t kid yourself, it is fan art), but also, some of this stuff looks quite good! (I’m particularly fond of the Kanye West crossover, since a contemporary sense of humor is a nice contrast to Anderson’s out-of-time pastels.) On the other hand, Wes Anderson? Really? Aren’t their directors who could inspire more exciting and varied shows? What about Kubrick? Truffaut? Kurosawa? How about anyone who doesn’t have a favorite Parisian taxidermy shop?

There’s only so much mopey and twee one can take!
 

JOEMUR, “I’m going to kill myself tonight”
 

Hari & Deepti, “I Wonder If It Remembers Me…”
 

Ivonna Buenrostro, “What’s Wrong With You?”
 
More after the jump…

Zero Moustafa, The Grand Budapest Hotel
Steve Zissou, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
 
Love ‘im or hate ‘im, Wes Anderson is one of a handful of truly original filmmakers in the world today. By following his vision instead of heeding those who would tell him that his movies are too precious, he managed to create a distinctive genre all his own, the Wes Anderson Film. We all know exactly what to expect when we see one, and we know it won’t feel like the work of any other filmmaker. Only the Coen Brothers are really in a similar line of business, crafting utterly unique and memorable movies that couldn’t have come from anyone else.

Along the way Anderson has created literally dozens of bizarre and memorable characters, to populate his colorful (often symmetrical) flights of fancy. For a group tribute to the works of Wes Anderson last autumn, Matt Chase designed these amusing schematics of Wes Anderson characters as LEGO figurines. Anderson is so detailed in his costumery and props that these would be a challenge to make on your own—unless you happen to have a torso piece with a grey jacket, white shirt, and red lei on it, a yellow skirt piece with red apples on it, or a handheld rattlesnake piece, you’re going to have to make them yourself somehow.
 

Chas Tenenbaum, The Royal Tenenbaums
Jack Whitman, The Darjeeling Limited
 

Sweet Lime, The Darjeeling Limited
Agatha, The Grand Budapest Hotel
 
More after the jump…

 
I think I have the same relationship with Wes Anderson movies as a lot of people my age. We saw The Royal Tenenbaums as teenagers, and having never seen a François Truffaut film, it blew our minds. The colors, the shots, the soundtracks, the ennui—we were absolutely certain no one had ever made movies like this. Of course, age, experience and Netflix eventually set us straight, and Anderson’s movies never quite glowed the same way again—for me, they feel pretty cloying at this point.

Conversely, I grew up thinking of Steely Dan as my mom’s lame-o jazz-rock “mellow gold” relics. But at some point I listened to Aja on a whim of childhood sentiment and found myself really enjoying it. You might say, I had a change of heart. (Sorry, I had to do that.)

Had you told teenage Amber that someday late-20s Amber was going to laugh with Steely Dan, at Wes Anderson, she would have rolled her eyes harder than she had ever rolled them before—quite the feat for an adolescent of such practiced disdain and sprezzatura.

And yet, here I am, laughing my ass off at an open letter from Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, posted from their very own website in 2006. The pair start off with some heavy-handed praise, then transition to a brilliant back-handed concern-troll; they were of the opinion he had lost his touch. Honestly, it’s a little difficult to tell if they’re being sarcastic or earnest—right up until the point that they offer to save Anderson’s career with some custom-written Steely Dan originals for the low price of $400,000.

When questioned about their offer in a 2007 interview, Anderson said that he “appreciated their advice.” But when pressed, he admitted, “I can’t say that Steely Dan made me feel like a million bucks actually; but, I think it was kind of funny.” At least he’s a good sport about it?

From: W. Becker and D. Fagen [AKA Steely Dan© ]

To: Wes Anderson

Maestro:

As you may know, we are the founders of the celebrated rock band “Steely Dan”©.  If for some reason you don’t know our work, check with Owen and Luke Wilson - they’re both big fans.  Here’s something you may not know about us: when not distracted by our “day job” – composing, recording, touring and so forth – we like to head downstairs into the paneled basement of our minds and assume the roles we were born to play - you may have already guessed it by now – the roles of Obsessive Fans of World Cinema.

That’s right. Eisenstein, Renoir, Rene Clair, Bunuel, Kurosawa, Fellini, Godard, Tarkovsky, Ophuls the Elder, Blake Edwards, Ophuls the Younger, you name it. Sat there, dug it.

Maestro, we give to you this Message: there was a time when Giants walked among us. And, damn, if you, Wes Anderson, might not be the one to restore their racial dominance on this, our planet, this Terra, this… Earth.

You may have heard that we have recently made it our personal project and goal to deliver a certain actor of no small importance to your past and present work from a downward spiral of moral turpitude from which it seemed there might be no escape. We are delighted to report that, with the news of Mr. ________’s participation in your new film (which we understand to be entitled, indeed, charmingly,  “Darjeeling Limited”), our efforts have been repaid, and How.

This unqualified victory has inspired us to address a more serious matter. Let’s put our cards on the table -  surely, we are not the first to tell you that your career is suffering from a malaise. Fortunately, inasmuch as it is a malaise distinctly different than that of Mr.______ , and to the extent that you have not become so completely alienated from the intellectual and moral wellsprings of your own creativity, we are hoping that we - yours truly, Donald and Walter - may successfully “intervene” at this point in time and be of some use to you in your latest, and, potentially, greatest, endeavor.

Again, an artist of your stripe could never be guilty of the same sort of willing harlotry that befalls so many bright young men who take their aspirations to Hollywood and their talent for granted. You have failed or threatened to fail in a far more interesting and morally uncompromised way (assuming for a moment that self-imitation and a modality dangerously close to mawkishness are not moral failings, but rather symptoms of a profound sickness of the soul.)

Let’s begin with a quick review of your career so far, as it is known to us and your fans and wellwishers in general.

You began, spectacularly enough, with the excellent “Bottle Rocket”, a film we consider to be your finest work to date. No doubt others would agree that the striking originality of your premise and vision was most effective in this seminal work. Subsequent films - “Rushmore”, “The Royal Tenenbaums”, “The Life Aquatic” - have been good fun but somewhat disappointing - perhaps increasingly so.  These follow-ups have all concerned themselves with the theme we like to call “the enervated family of origin”©, from which springs diverse subplots also largely concerned with the failure to fulfill early promise. Again, each film increasingly relies on eccentric visual detail, period wardrobe, idiosyncratic and overwrought set design, and music supervision that leans heavily on somewhat obscure 60’s “British Invasion” tracks a-jangle with twelve-string guitars, harpsichords and mandolins. The company of players, while excellent, retains pretty much the same tone and function from film to film. Indeed, you must be aware that your career as an auteur is mirrored in the lives of your beloved characters as they struggle in vain to duplicate early glories.

But, look, Mr. Anderson, we’re not trying to be critical – dammit - we just want to help.

Enter the Faboriginals©, Donald Fagen and Walter Becker of Steely Dan©. The muse is a fickle mistress at best, and to leave her high and dry, with just a “lick and a promise” of the greatness of which one is capable - well, sir, it’s just plain wrong.  It is an Art Crime© of the first magnitude and a great sin against your talent and your Self.  We just don’t want to see it go down that way. 

So the question, Mr. Anderson, remains: what is to be done?  As we have done with previous clients, we have taken the liberty of creating two alternative strategies that we believe will insure success -  in this case, success for you and your little company of players.  Each of us – Donald and Walter - has composed a TITLE SONG which could serve as a powerful organizing element and a rallying cry for you and Owen and Jason and the others, lest you lose your way and fall into the same old traps.

STRATEGY 1:

Donald believes that you are at a crossroads and that you must do what none of your characters has been able to do - namely, let go of the past: leave it as it lies with no concern for the wreckage, and move boldly forward towards new challenges and goals. To this end he has composed a fresh, exciting title song for your new film, “Darjeeling Limited”. It’s rousing, it’s hip, by turns, funny and sad, and then funny again. Although the music is not entirely out of line with the chic “retro” pop you seem to favor, it’s been fire-mopped© clean of every last trace of irony and then re-ironized at a whole new level – “post-post-post-modern” if you will. The lyrics are as follows:

[CHORUS ]
Darjeeling Limited©
That’s the train I wanna get kissed on
Darjeeling Limited©
But I’ll be lucky if I don’t get pissed on

This is a country of starving millions
We’ve got to get ‘em their tea on time
I know romance should be on the back burner
But girl I just can’t get you off my mind
Cause baby every single time I’m with you
I’d like to have as many arms as Vishnu
(Arms as Vishnu)

[CHORUS ]
Darjeeling Limited©
That’s the train I wanna get kissed on
Darjeeling Limited©
But I’ll be lucky if I don’t get pissed on

You told me you’d be mine forever
That we’d get married in the Taj Mahal
The minute I’m done baggin’ this tea, babe
Then I’ll be makin’ you my Bollywood doll
Forget the Super Chief, the China Star now
Give me the choo-choo with the Chutney Bar now
(Chutney Bar now)

[CHORUS ]
Darjeeling Limited©
That’s the train I wanna get kissed on
Darjeeling Limited©
But I’ll be lucky if I don’t get pissed on

STRATEGY 2:

Walter believes that the best strategy for you now would be to return to the point in your career when it was all good, when all was working as it should, when there was magic in every song you sung, so to speak.  Youthful idealism, jouissance©, original spirit - these will be your watchwords.  “Birth is residual if it is not symbolically revisited through initiation” - it’s an old French proverb.  In other words, your new film will be called “Bottle Rocket Two©” and will be the logical continuation of the first film which was so well loved. (“Bottle Rocket” was our fave among your movies, did we mention that?) You pick up where you left off and find a new continuation that takes you elsewhere than to ruin.  The eponymous title song would reframe the important existential questions which are at the core of your artistic vision and would go something like this:

Bottlerocket Two©

Any resemblance
Real or imagined
People or places
Living or dead

Any resemblance
As-if or actual
Characters or circumstance
It’s all in your head

Flying out to India
Trying to get into you
Old Bombay
It’s a very long way
To chase a “bottlerocket” to©

Precise simulations
Possible parallels
Never intended
Co-incidentals

Persons and places
Present or otherwise
Comrades in comedy
Brothers in crime

Hiding out in India
Babycakes they’re watching you
This is our latest -
It may be our greatest -
It’s called “bottlerocket” too©!

Who pitched the story?
Who built the scenery?
Who raised the money?
Whose movie is it,
Anyway?

[Guitar Solo ]

Come to think about it, these songs are both so fucking strong that you may wish to consider a hybrid approach that uses both of them - after all, they’re both set in India, which is where your company is setting up shop now.  You could go with some kind of “film within a film” or even a “film within a film within a film” or some such pomo horseshit, just like Godard’s “King Lear” or whatever.  That’s your call, you’re the director.

Please note that all these lyrics and titles have been heavily copywritten, trademarked, registered, patented, etc., etc., so anybody using them will have to negotiate the rights from the legitimate Faboriginal© owners, which is us.  We are currently represented by Michael “Mickey” Shaheen, Esq., of Howard Beach, Queens County, New York NY.

The other change that we would have to make would concern Mark Mothersbaugh.  Everyone in Hollywood knows that he is a first class professional musical supervisor.  Obviously you and he have a lot of great history together and we can imagine there is a certain rapport both professional and personal.  But we certainly can’t work with him, anymore than he would consent to work with us.  Same thing for the mandolins and the twelve-string stuff and the harpsichord, they’re out.  You yourself may be partial to those particular instruments. We’re not. Remember, we saw “Tom Jones” in its original theatrical release when we were still in high school, we had to listen to “Walk Away Renee” all through college and we fucking opened for Roger McGuinn in the seventies, so all that “jingle-jangle morning” shit is no big thrill for us, OK?

Argh!...goddammit…sorry, guy! We kinda lost it for a minute there.  Look - Mark is probably a swell guy.  But you, Wes Anderson, must remember that Mark and his music are part of the old way of doing things, the old way of being, the old way that has brought you to the precipice. Mr. Anderson, you must be fearless in defense of your creations and your genius, absolutely fearless, and not give in to sentimental considerations.

So - let’s get going, shall we?  Send the check for US$400,000 (advance on licensing fees) out by Fedex to Mickey by tomorrow and we’ll talk a little later in the day about merch, percentages, backend, soundtrack, ASCAP, etc. Mickey himself doesn’t need any kind of an advance but he’ll probably take a couple of points on your net career action.  It’s a little expensive - and Mickey certainly doesn’t need the bread - but just pay the points, okay?  It’s a lot better than the alternative.

We remain your abject servants,

W. Becker and D. Fagen AKA Steely Dan©

Below, the Dan on The Midnight Special in 1973:
 

 
In addition to being one of the key minds who brought you Taxi, The Simpsons, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show and assisting Jack Nicholson win a couple of Oscars, the legendary TV and movie writer/director James L. Brooks can add to his lengthy list of accomplishments more or less singlehandedly giving Wes Anderson a movie career. According to Pamela Colloff’s May 1998 account in Texas Monthly, “Brooks ... loved Bottle Rocket and, in a generous leap of faith, offered the roommates a deal: He would not only give them $5 million to turn it into a feature but also give them access to a cinematographer, editors, a crew—all the tools they needed for bringing their ideas to the big screen.” You have to hand it to Brooks—he does have an eye for talent.

Brooks generously provided an introduction to the published version of Wes Anderson’s 1998 indie masterpiece Rushmore, written by Anderson and Owen Wilson. Anderson graciously wrote Brooks a handwritten thank-you note, and if you didn’t know who had written it, you would immediately suspect that it might be the director of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Composed entirely in carefully written and self-consciously childlike block letters and featuring a great many copyediting emendations, it somehow manages to be charming and irritating all at the same time.

Below is the text of the letter once the imaginary “associate editor” has incorporated all of Anderson’s proofing corrections.
 

16.Jan.99

Dear Jim,

Thank you very, very much for going to all the trouble on that terrific screenplay introduction number. I personally guarantee that it’s going to be one of the best intros they’ve every published at Faber & Faber; and from me, that really means something (because I’ve read all those movie books). Also, I want you to know how pleased I was by your reaction to my Pauline Kael piece. It was great to hear such good feedback, and I took your advice and sent it to the N.Y. Times, and they’re running it in the Sunday Arts & Leisure in a couple of weeks. (or maybe it’s next Sunday.) Thanks again for writing such a nice piece for us. I’m really very proud of Owen’s & my whole experience with you, and I’m very happy & grateful we’ve had and have your help & friendship.

Love, Wes.

 
If you haven’t seen Saturday Night Live‘s recent trailer for a horror movie as directed by Anderson, complete with spot-on Owen Wilson impression by Edward Norton, you really ought to:

 
via Cinephilia and Beyond

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Wes Anderson’s first film, the original B&W ‘Bottle Rocket’ short from 1992
If Wes Anderson directed Spider-Man…

 
Before Wes Anderson made his first full-length film, Bottle Rocket, the quirky auteur’s plot-line was auditioned in a short he directed in 1992. Co-written with Owen Wilson (the two shared a play-writing class at UT Austin), the earlier film, also called Bottle Rocket, was a skeleton of their later feature. It’s a heist film, of sorts, but with low-stakes and an offhand narrative styling that keeps it comic and fun. Brothers Owen and Luke Wilson star as partners in crime, and their on-screen sibling chemistry is recognizable from the get-go.

The original Bottle Rocket is more Woody Allen or Jim Jarmusch than anything current fans would recognize as Anderson’s trademark style. His characteristic austere, lyrical dialogue is absent, opting here instead for clamoring and conversational. The high contrast black and white feels about as alien as possible from the warm, golden tones we now associate with his work. And while the short makes ready use of good music, it’s all cool jazz, as opposed to the exotica Bowie covers, Nico and 60’s mod rockers.

Supposedly, Anderson can’t stand to watch the short (even though it was screened at Sundance), but aside from the fact that I think it’s a good little film, it’s fascinating to see someone’s work develop and bloom into something so richly different. Anyway, I like it way better than his Prada perfume commercials.
 

 
via The World’s Best Ever