The late, great Leonard Nimoy, who died earlier today at the age of 83, will always be Mr. Spock, second-in-command of the USS Enterprise under Captain James T. Kirk. For a long time, Nimoy was not okay with this. And then, over the years, he embraced the character that defined his career and inspired an entire generation of fans (many of whom became scientists, engineers, and astronauts). But Nimoy didn't just sit back and rest on his Vulcan laurels. When he wasn't wearing those pointy ears, Nimoy was acting, directing, writing, singing, and lending his likeness and distinctive voice to commercials and TV specials. He was a real Hollywood renaissance man, dabbling in high art, low art, and everything in-between.
We're on the set of Avengers: Age of Ultron, inside the new Avengers Tower; formerly Stark Tower and now converted to a de facto headquarters for the Earth’s mightiest heroes. It’s all very sleek and shiny and pretty much exactly what you'd expect from a place Tony Stark calls home. Except now, it's a complete disaster. There's broken glass scattered across the floor. Furniture is destroyed. There are giant gashes in the wall. There's a production assistant dramatically swinging a giant cape around (the actors film their fight scenes without the cape, and the cape is added later in post-production).
40 million. That’s the staggering number of downloads the Serial podcast racked up by the end of its first season in December of 2014. The show crossed over from popular podcast to full-blown cultural phenomenon. It launched a thousand thinkpieces, lit up social media, and jumpstarted legal proceedings in a cold case. Hell, even my parents listened to it. It must have been big.
ScreenCrush editor, comic-book lover, and undiagnosed masochist Matt Singer is systematically watching every single (American) comic-book movie ever made in the order in which they were released. This week in The Complete History of Comic-Book Movies: A forgotten hero flies again.
1952 was an incredible year for world cinema. John Ford directed The Quiet Man, Akira Kurosawa made Ikiru, Vittorio De Sica released Umberto D., and Orson Welles premiered his version of Shakespeare’s Othello at the Cannes Film Festival. Hollywood produced the great Western High Noon, the brilliant Hollywood melodrama The Bad and the Beautiful, and the classic musical Singin’ in the Rain.
Before he officially commences their affair, Christian Gray tells Anastasia Steele she must agree to two things. First, she must sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure she will never discuss any of the things she says or does with him. “And the second thing?” Anastasia asks. “Come,” Christian replies, as he extends his hand and leads her through his apartment to the “playroom” where he keeps all his sexual toys.
When Disney acquired Lucasfilm and systematically eradicated most of the ‘Star Wars’ Expanded Universe, the most hardcore fans of the most popular genre franchise on the planet made their displeasure known, but to no avail. To paraphrase one of the greatest Jedi Knights, millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced. Disney didn’t buy ‘Star Wars’ so it could navigate a labyrinth of pre-existing novels, comics, and video games. More specifically, Disney didn’t buy ‘Star Wars’ so it could appease the niche group of fans who have kept up with the increasingly complicated Expanded Universe; it bought ‘Star Wars’ to please the much larger audience of everyone else.
ScreenCrush editor, comic-book lover, and undiagnosed masochist Matt Singer is systematically watching every single (American) comic-book movie ever made in the order in which they were released. This week in The Complete History of Comic-Book Movies: Welcome to the prehistoric Marvel Cinematic Universe.
I cannot tell you the year and I cannot tell you the location, but I can recall just about everything else. I'm young and I'm in a store and I'm looking at a rack of VHS tapes for sale. Wedged between the other titles is a cover that has caught my attention, chiefly because I feel like I caught it’s attention. It’s a movie called ‘Monkey Shines’ and the cover depicts a cartoonish monkey wielding a bloody knife, it’s eyes large and murderous and staring deep into my young, innocent, unblemished soul.
I’m about to say something that I never thought I would say in my entire life. It makes me sick to my stomach to even type such heresy, but here goes: Bill Murray is wrong. I’m getting out ahead of all the impending ‘Ghostbusters II’ hate right now. ‘Ghostbusters II’ is not a bad sequel. It’s not a great sequel either, but it’s a totally satisfying follow-up. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel the way the first film did by blending of horror, science-fiction, and comedy into a unique and irresistible genre hybrid. But it keeps things rolling in a frothy, entertaining, and occasionally profound way. (You heard me.)