R.I.P. Peter Bogdanovich

[FilmFan720]

Rewatched What's Up, Doc? -- my favorite film of all time -- for the gazillionth time last night in honor of him. A great filmmaker who still doesn't quite get his due.

I caught the black and white version of Nickelodeon last year and had a real blast with it; not a masterpiece, but much better than its critics seem to claim. I also remember loving his film version of Noises Off as a theatre kid, but haven't revisited it in years.

[Big Magilla]

I suppose I should give Targets another shot, but I didn't really care for it when I finally got to it some years after it was barely released.

My favorite Bogdanovich film outside the early trifecta is Mask. I don't get his dismissal of it in the 2019 Vulture article because almost two years before that (Feb. 2018), his director's cut was released on a Region B Blu-ray with Springsteen's music restored. Ironically, the first two reviews on Amazon were from outraged Bob Seger fans who were upset because Seger's music was "replaced" by Springsteen's. Goes to show you can't please everyone.

[Mister Tee]

Despite his true period of fame only lasting a few years, his story is no doubt familiar to anyone who'd follow this site. Film scholar for a decade or more before he went to Hollywood himself. (His essay collection Pieces of Time is a treasure trove of classic Hollywood stories). His first movie, The Last Picture Show, made him King of the World -- probably now widely thought of as 1971's best film (though it didn't win any of the few then-existent best picture awards). Followed it with a huge commercial success What's Up, Doc?, which is still one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. Followed THAT with Paper Moon, something in-between his two previous films -- a lovely but small comedy/drama, which featured the legendary Tatum O'Neal breakout, and Madeline Kahn's greatest screen performance. (In fact, Bogdanovich needs to be cited as the one who kicked of Kahn's film career.)

And then -- splat! Daisy Miller was only a small splat (I actually thought there were nice things about it, though it's almost half a century since I saw it). But At Long Last Love was a belly flop of the sort we don't see often -- not expensive enough to be a Heaven's Gate, but a critical reception that bore comparison with the Cimino disaster: a sense that the critics wanted the director behind bars. And, it must be said, Bogdanovich courted this reception: he wasn't close to a self-effacing man; he'd acted as if all the praise he'd received earlier was only his due. And he did what so many hot-shot directors do -- dumped his no-longer-young wife for the hot young blonde in his movies -- but he did it splashily and tabloidly; my brother described it as "going steady in public". Also, not really parenthetically, he lost, in the process, the great Polly Platt, who not a few think was a key element in his success. Without her as tempering advisor, his films kept sputtering -- there were occasional "he's back!" flurries, for Saint Jack and Mask, but he never again got close to that burst of success he had during the Nixon administration. In later years, he was more noticeable as an actor (including the running role on The Sopranos) and as TV raconteur -- returning to his film scholar role, maybe the part he always enjoyed best.

But you can't take away those three movies in three years that vaulted him to the top. Is it comforting to have had such a success in his early years, even if it means living on as a has-been? His idol Orson Welles might have some thoughts on that. I'd say it's better than having had no success at all. But that's something for the individual to decide.

I think Targets - his first film - also needs to be included amongst the pantheon of those three that followed in fairly quick succession.

How kind of you to so gently correct my spectacular brain-cramp. I saw Targets years ago, and don't know how I so cavalierly deleted it from his resume. (I don't rate it up with his big three, but it's an interesting effort, and certainly gave some sign of the career to follow.)

[Reza]

Despite his true period of fame only lasting a few years, his story is no doubt familiar to anyone who'd follow this site. Film scholar for a decade or more before he went to Hollywood himself. (His essay collection Pieces of Time is a treasure trove of classic Hollywood stories). His first movie, The Last Picture Show, made him King of the World -- probably now widely thought of as 1971's best film (though it didn't win any of the few then-existent best picture awards). Followed it with a huge commercial success What's Up, Doc?, which is still one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. Followed THAT with Paper Moon, something in-between his two previous films -- a lovely but small comedy/drama, which featured the legendary Tatum O'Neal breakout, and Madeline Kahn's greatest screen performance. (In fact, Bogdanovich needs to be cited as the one who kicked of Kahn's film career.)

And then -- splat! Daisy Miller was only a small splat (I actually thought there were nice things about it, though it's almost half a century since I saw it). But At Long Last Love was a belly flop of the sort we don't see often -- not expensive enough to be a Heaven's Gate, but a critical reception that bore comparison with the Cimino disaster: a sense that the critics wanted the director behind bars. And, it must be said, Bogdanovich courted this reception: he wasn't close to a self-effacing man; he'd acted as if all the praise he'd received earlier was only his due. And he did what so many hot-shot directors do -- dumped his no-longer-young wife for the hot young blonde in his movies -- but he did it splashily and tabloidly; my brother described it as "going steady in public". Also, not really parenthetically, he lost, in the process, the great Polly Platt, who not a few think was a key element in his success. Without her as tempering advisor, his films kept sputtering -- there were occasional "he's back!" flurries, for Saint Jack and Mask, but he never again got close to that burst of success he had during the Nixon administration. In later years, he was more noticeable as an actor (including the running role on The Sopranos) and as TV raconteur -- returning to his film scholar role, maybe the part he always enjoyed best.

But you can't take away those three movies in three years that vaulted him to the top. Is it comforting to have had such a success in his early years, even if it means living on as a has-been? His idol Orson Welles might have some thoughts on that. I'd say it's better than having had no success at all. But that's something for the individual to decide.

I think Targets - his first film - also needs to be included amongst the pantheon of those three that followed in fairly quick succession.

And yes, Daisy Miller is actually very good as is that musical he followed up with. He unfairly got a bum rap for those two.

[Big Magilla]

I was familiar with a lot of that including the story of his older brother dying in that freak accident at one-and-a-half. Didn't realize he had been such a charity case for so many years, living with friends and colleagues and eventually with one of his ex-wives and her mother.

The tributes continue to pour in, including one from Cher:

https://deadline.com/2022/01/peter-bogd ... 234905300/

[Big Magilla]

I was familiar with a lot of that including the story of his older brother dying in that freak accident at one-and-a-half. Didn't realize he had been such a charity case for so many years, living with friends and colleagues and eventually one of his ex-wives and her mother.

The tributes continue to pour in, including one from Cher:

https://deadline.com/2022/01/peter-bogd ... 234905300/

[Sabin]

I'll link to this remarkable Vulture article. Fantastic stuff.

https://www.vulture.com/2022/01/peter-b ... ation.html

[Big Magilla]

Oh, wow! The new year is starting off the way the old one ended.

[Mister Tee]

Despite his true period of fame only lasting a few years, his story is no doubt familiar to anyone who'd follow this site. Film scholar for a decade or more before he went to Hollywood himself. (His essay collection Pieces of Time is a treasure trove of classic Hollywood stories). His first movie, The Last Picture Show, made him King of the World -- probably now widely thought of as 1971's best film (though it didn't win any of the few then-existent best picture awards). Followed it with a huge commercial success What's Up, Doc?, which is still one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. Followed THAT with Paper Moon, something in-between his two previous films -- a lovely but small comedy/drama, which featured the legendary Tatum O'Neal breakout, and Madeline Kahn's greatest screen performance. (In fact, Bogdanovich needs to be cited as the one who kicked of Kahn's film career.)

And then -- splat! Daisy Miller was only a small splat (I actually thought there were nice things about it, though it's almost half a century since I saw it). But At Long Last Love was a belly flop of the sort we don't see often -- not expensive enough to be a Heaven's Gate, but a critical reception that bore comparison with the Cimino disaster: a sense that the critics wanted the director behind bars. And, it must be said, Bogdanovich courted this reception: he wasn't close to a self-effacing man; he'd acted as if all the praise he'd received earlier was only his due. And he did what so many hot-shot directors do -- dumped his no-longer-young wife for the hot young blonde in his movies -- but he did it splashily and tabloidly; my brother described it as "going steady in public". Also, not really parenthetically, he lost, in the process, the great Polly Platt, who not a few think was a key element in his success. Without her as tempering advisor, his films kept sputtering -- there were occasional "he's back!" flurries, for Saint Jack and Mask, but he never again got close to that burst of success he had during the Nixon administration. In later years, he was more noticeable as an actor (including the running role on The Sopranos) and as TV raconteur -- returning to his film scholar role, maybe the part he always enjoyed best.

But you can't take away those three movies in three years that vaulted him to the top. Is it comforting to have had such a success in his early years, even if it means living on as a has-been? His idol Orson Welles might have some thoughts on that. I'd say it's better than having had no success at all. But that's something for the individual to decide.

[Sabin]

A great filmmaker (sometimes) and a great read (always). I'm now due for a rewatch of The Last Picture Show.

https://www.indiewire.com/2022/01/peter ... 234689025/