Thanks, sugarpie honeybunch.
I hate to admit it, but the attempts to market Australia as the next Gone With The Wind with all that campy romance novel clinch have worked on me like hypnosis. I don't really care if the film is filled with enough shirtless Jackman to make Matthew McConaughey watch his back. And whatever, the overuse of the word "crikey" may seem like a misguided Steve Irwin tribute. I'm still there. Now I just have to convince my husband to come with me.
I spotted this Lee Godie painting today and wondered if she painted it while the leaves were falling, inspiring her to create her own Roman goddess of fall. Lee was a sometimes homeless artist who routinely sat outside the Art Institute of Chicago for more than twenty years, selling her portraits. She wore a stitched-together rabbit coat, scarves, and sometimes wore her bra outside her clothes. She was like Chicago's Impressionist Little Edie. You can see more of her art here, including her photo booth self portraits. And if you are in Chicago you can check out a retrospective of her work at Intuit until January.
From the moment I was a teenager and discovered Lucy Honeychurch I've taken great comfort in Helena Bonham Carter's expressive face (captured perfectly by Melissa Dow in this Mrs. Lovett illustration). She's like a sexier, witchier Lillian Gish, equally luminous as a frustrated Edwardian, neurotic temptress and stitched-together corpse. And for those who think Tim Burton turned her into a gothic granny, I say the seeds were always there. With Sweeney Todd on HBO, and Conversations with Other Women making the rounds on Starz, I'm getting my fix this month. Coming soon: Helena as the Red Queen and (fingers crossed) a Terminator!
I'm probably spending entirely too much time over in the Gawker neighborhood lately, but I love that they promote artists, and specifically that they feature Dawn Dudek's paintings. Dawn's filmscape series explores the "juxtaposition of personal memories on cinematic imagery." All I can say is awesome. Check out more of her filmscapes here.
A.V. Club: You were a DJ at bar mitzvahs. Did you have a signature bit or anything that set you apart?
Paul Rudd: Oh, I did have a signature. I had a dance. It was a tough job. It was mentally kind of taxing, and one time I just lost it. It was the second bar mitzvah of the day, going on hour 15. And I started doing this really spastic dance. I was sitting there, about 22, having to listen to MC Hammer. "Oh God…" So I started dancing like I had some sort of serious mental issue. Just a gross, weird dance. And the kids thought it was funny. And then I started getting hired to do parties, cause I was known as the guy who did this dance. And my boss made a big deal of it. It was just gross. I would do it and feel like Coco in Fame, crying and showing her breasts.
Read the whole interview with the lovely Mr. Rudd here.