Over the last few weeks, in addition to working through a recently purchased batch of a couple of dozen 'significant' cinema releases from the past year or so that I'd missed, I've also been digging out some classic 'feelgood' films of yesteryear from my DVD collection (not much else to do with myself during this neverending Chinese New Year holiday).
Last weekend I watched Peter Bogdanovich's 1973 charmer Paper Moon - for the first time in thirty or more years, I suppose (I think I saw its first UK television screening on the BBC over Christmas sometime in the second half of the '70s, but perhaps not since). For once, the 'Special Features' were available (usually they're omitted from the cheap pirated copies we get in China), and I checked out the 'Looking back on....' documentary featurette, where one of those interviewed was Polly Platt, the production designer. I'd never heard of her (at least, not consciously noticed her name) before; although I now discover that she had been married to Bogdanovich for a short while in the '60s, and continued to work with him on his early '70s pictures even after their divorce.
Next up - for a 'nightcap' - I fancied something even more lightweight, so I plumped for Steve Martin's wonderfully silly The Man With Two Brains.
And what was the name that leapt out at me from the credits? (Yes, I know, I'm one of those rare weirdoes who actually reads the credits.) Production Designer - Polly Platt. Now since this film came over 10 years later, and was very different in style and genre to Paper Moon; and since Ms Platt only ever worked in this capacity on about 10 films (she's still occasionally active as a producer - perhaps most notably on Wes Anderson's wonderful debut Bottle Rocket).... well, this seemed to me to be a pretty long-odds sort of coincidence.
Spooky, no?
Last weekend I watched Peter Bogdanovich's 1973 charmer Paper Moon - for the first time in thirty or more years, I suppose (I think I saw its first UK television screening on the BBC over Christmas sometime in the second half of the '70s, but perhaps not since). For once, the 'Special Features' were available (usually they're omitted from the cheap pirated copies we get in China), and I checked out the 'Looking back on....' documentary featurette, where one of those interviewed was Polly Platt, the production designer. I'd never heard of her (at least, not consciously noticed her name) before; although I now discover that she had been married to Bogdanovich for a short while in the '60s, and continued to work with him on his early '70s pictures even after their divorce.
Next up - for a 'nightcap' - I fancied something even more lightweight, so I plumped for Steve Martin's wonderfully silly The Man With Two Brains.
And what was the name that leapt out at me from the credits? (Yes, I know, I'm one of those rare weirdoes who actually reads the credits.) Production Designer - Polly Platt. Now since this film came over 10 years later, and was very different in style and genre to Paper Moon; and since Ms Platt only ever worked in this capacity on about 10 films (she's still occasionally active as a producer - perhaps most notably on Wes Anderson's wonderful debut Bottle Rocket).... well, this seemed to me to be a pretty long-odds sort of coincidence.
Spooky, no?
3 comments:
Very long odds indeed.
Every now and then I start to notice the little side jobs in a film's production credits. (Like you, I tend to linger after a film is over.) Not surprising, I guess, to see surnames four or five screens down which match the director's or big-name star's, but coincidences like the one you're talking about just don't happen.
One of the names I've learned to look out for is that of casting director Ellen Chenoweth. She seems to have done lots of Coen films but doesn't work exclusively for them, and her name also shows up on other films I tend to like. Here's her IMDB credit list.
Hmm, that is a pretty interesting body of work, isn't it?
Are there any names you notice that are regularly associated with more disappointing films? (Apart from Rutger Hauer, obviously.)
Can't think of other off-beat film credits I watch for at the moment. Time was, I had a nearly infallible yardstick for knowing when I'd like or dislike a film: if Pauline Kael loved it or hated it, I'd love it; if she were more level-headed, more even-handed, I'd be bored (or actively dislike it). I've been adrift ever since. It must have been love.
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