Jul
28
2014

Reblogged from hollyhocksandtulips :

hollyhocksandtulips:

1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz

hollyhocksandtulips:

1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz

Jul
28
2014

Reblogged from gatabella :

whitespats:

Do you ever feel good about how you look and then

image

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from blanchettcates :

atheistj:

Prayer circle for a Galadriel poster for The Battle of Five Armies.

image

Jul
27
2014
Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from madzwierzwithinternet :

lamelatios:

not being at comic con like 

lamelatios:

not being at comic con like 

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from kennethbrangh :

Now you get a chance, with a truly great actress like Cate Blanchett, to see the Stepmother in three different dimensions. She has the size, the scale, the relish, but this deep and detailed humanity as well. Which means that she is not cut out, she’s not cardboard, but she’s scary and she’s passionate and she’s intelligent and she’s dangerous.

(Source: queencate)

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from cinematicfantastic :

howtocatchamonster:

A lot of actors act intelligent, but Philip was the real thing: a shining, artistic polymath with an intelligence that came at you like a pair of headlights and enveloped you from the moment he grabbed your hand, put a huge arm round your neck and shoved a cheek against yours; or if the mood took him, hugged you to him like a big, pudgy schoolboy, then stood and beamed at you while he took stock of the effect.
 Philip took vivid stock of everything, all the time. It was painful and exhausting work, and probably in the end his undoing. The world was too bright for him to handle. He had to screw up his eyes or be dazzled to death. Like Chatterton, he went seven times round the moon to your one, and every time he set off, you were never sure he’d come back, which is what I believe somebody said about the German poet Hölderlin: Whenever he left the room, you were afraid you’d seen the last of him. And if that sounds like wisdom after the event, it isn’t. Philip was burning himself out before your eyes. Nobody could live at his pace and stay the course, and in bursts of startling intimacy he needed you to know it. 
No actor had ever made quite the impact on me that Philip did at that first encounter: not Richard Burton, not Burt Lancaster or even Alec Guinness. Philip greeted me as if he’d been waiting to meet me all his life, which I suspect was how he greeted everyone. But I’d been waiting to meet Philip for a long time. I reckoned his “Capote” the best single performance I’d seen on screen. But I didn’t dare tell him that, because there’s always a danger with actors, when you tell them how great they were nine years ago, that they demand to know what’s been wrong with their performances ever since. 
There was a problem about accents. We had really good German actors who spoke English with a German accent. Collective wisdom dictated, not necessarily wisely, that Philip should do the same. For the first few minutes of listening to him, I thought, “Crikey.” No German I knew spoke English like this. He did a mouth thing, a kind of pout. He seemed to kiss his lines rather than speak them. Then gradually he did what only the greatest actors can do. He made his voice the only authentic one, the lonely one, the odd one out, the one you depended on amid all the others. And every time it left the stage, like the great man himself, you waited for its return with impatience and mounting unease. 
We shall wait a long time for another Philip. - John le Carré (X)

howtocatchamonster:

A lot of actors act intelligent, but Philip was the real thing: a shining, artistic polymath with an intelligence that came at you like a pair of headlights and enveloped you from the moment he grabbed your hand, put a huge arm round your neck and shoved a cheek against yours; or if the mood took him, hugged you to him like a big, pudgy schoolboy, then stood and beamed at you while he took stock of the effect.

Philip took vivid stock of everything, all the time. It was painful and exhausting work, and probably in the end his undoing. The world was too bright for him to handle. He had to screw up his eyes or be dazzled to death. Like Chatterton, he went seven times round the moon to your one, and every time he set off, you were never sure he’d come back, which is what I believe somebody said about the German poet Hölderlin: Whenever he left the room, you were afraid you’d seen the last of him. And if that sounds like wisdom after the event, it isn’t. Philip was burning himself out before your eyes. Nobody could live at his pace and stay the course, and in bursts of startling intimacy he needed you to know it.

No actor had ever made quite the impact on me that Philip did at that first encounter: not Richard Burton, not Burt Lancaster or even Alec Guinness. Philip greeted me as if he’d been waiting to meet me all his life, which I suspect was how he greeted everyone. But I’d been waiting to meet Philip for a long time. I reckoned his “Capote” the best single performance I’d seen on screen. But I didn’t dare tell him that, because there’s always a danger with actors, when you tell them how great they were nine years ago, that they demand to know what’s been wrong with their performances ever since.

There was a problem about accents. We had really good German actors who spoke English with a German accent. Collective wisdom dictated, not necessarily wisely, that Philip should do the same. For the first few minutes of listening to him, I thought, “Crikey.” No German I knew spoke English like this. He did a mouth thing, a kind of pout. He seemed to kiss his lines rather than speak them. Then gradually he did what only the greatest actors can do. He made his voice the only authentic one, the lonely one, the odd one out, the one you depended on amid all the others. And every time it left the stage, like the great man himself, you waited for its return with impatience and mounting unease.

We shall wait a long time for another Philip. - John le Carré (X)

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from anneboleyns :

Jul
27
2014

Reblogged from thatjunk :

thatjunk:

Eva Green - Casino Royale

thatjunk:

Eva Green - Casino Royale

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