From Irma Vep, Olivier Assayas, 1996. A near whip-pan across Maggie Cheung’s hotel room before she goes on her midnight adventure.
You might believe that I despise certain individuals on the 45th floor of a prominent Times Square office building because they caused me a spot of inconvenience w/r/t making a living, but there’s more to it than that. I really, truly loathe them because—well, apparently, it’s not enough for them to have immolated a brand that over the years had managed to acquire a modicum of credibility and cool and other enviable qualities. No, they then have go and piss on its ashes.
Oh well. “They’ll get theirs and we’ll get ours, if we can just hold on,” as that Big Star song goes. Still. A shame.
A couple of weeks ago, I was searching for an old review of yours on the Old Website – having not been there since your departure – and, what with all the new pop-up software they’ve installed, it’s damn near unnavigable. Even just reading the review once I’d found it was a nightmare, because if you moved the mouse over the wrong word, more ads would attack.
While I realize I’m late to the party, I wanted to second Glenn’s feelings and mention that if anyone is looking for a particular review of Glenn’s or any Première article in general, I’d be happy to make them a scan from the magazine. (Anything to not have to use that godforsaken Website.) Just e‑mail me at mfrushmore@gmail.com
Wow. Thanks, Stephen, for your thoughts and your fabulously generous offer.
Nice.