Dick Cavett Says John Cassavetes ‘Chewed Out' His ‘Husbands' Co-Stars After Infamous Talk Show Appearance: They Were ‘Total A***s'
Cavett recalled how the cast of 'Husbands' were some of the most 'crappy' guests on 'The Dick Cavett Show' in 1970. Actors Peter Falk, Ben Gazzara, and John Cassavetes, who also directed the film, appeared on Cavett's show on September 18, 1970. The trio pretended to faint, stripped off their socks, and had a meandering discussion onstage. Watch it here. Apparently, it was so bad that Cassavetes preemptively blamed whether or not 'Husbands' flopped in theaters on the talk show appearance.
More from IndieWire
Ari Aster and Lars Knudsen Want to Help You Get Your Movie Made
Dakota Johnson: 'I Dream of Playing' a Psychopath
'That's the movie that these three guys came on and made total asses of themselves. You can find it online: 'The Worst Show Dick Cavett Ever Did,'' Cavett said. 'They goofed around the whole time and did very funny things, like taking off your shoes and smelling their feet. Afterwards, John Cassavetes himself chewed them out mercilessly, and said, 'You have just unsold most, if not all, of the tickets to this movie.''
He added, 'And they were like three kids being smashed with criticism. It was sort of sad to say, but it didn't make up for how crappy they were on the show.'
'Husbands' went on to premiere at the San Francisco International Film Festival in October 1970. Though now a respected classic, the film did not initially land with audiences: ticket buyers apparently walked out of the premiere, and the Los Angeles Times said the film was 'the most unanimously detested' film at the festival. IndieWire's Ryan Lattanzio wrote in a retrospective essay that 'Husbands' was later critically acclaimed and became an inspiration for directors such as Judd Apatow. 'The dark night of the soul shared by Cassavetes, Gazzara, and Falk in 'Husbands,' captured with the in-your-face quality of a cinéma vérité documentary by cinematographer Victor J. Kemper, lands all the characters in the doghouse with themselves, their wives, and each other… 'Husbands' remains a must-see Cassavetes classic as a look into what's happening on the other side of a woman's panic.'
Also while in the Criterion Closet, Cavett quipped that the late Katharine Hepburn would be frustrated with the modern 'The Philadelphia Story' Blu-ray cover.
'Katharine Hepburn I think would be annoyed that she's only a small figure in this picture,' he said, adding that he had a unique bond with Hepburn. 'It never occurred to me that I would ever get her to do these shows [like 'The Dick Cavett Show']. She called and she said, 'You know you've made me a goddamn saint. Everywhere I go, if I go shopping, people suddenly adore me more than ever before.''
And despite his trip to the viral closet, Cavett won't be doing his Letterboxd four favorites anytime soon.
''What's your favorite movie?' sort of irritates me,' Cavett said. 'Is there really any one movie that tops them all? I would rather people not ask me what my favorite movie is. But if you want to know, my favorite movie is 'The Third Man.''
Check out Cavett's full visit to Criterion below.
Best of IndieWire
Guillermo del Toro's Favorite Movies: 56 Films the Director Wants You to See
'Song of the South': 14 Things to Know About Disney's Most Controversial Movie
Nicolas Winding Refn's Favorite Films: 37 Movies the Director Wants You to See
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Digital Trends
4 minutes ago
- Digital Trends
There's one important thing the PS5 and Switch 2 classic catalogs can't replicate about my old games
Revisiting old games from my youth isn't so much about the games themselves, but how they can bring me back to such specific moments in my life. I never realized it at the time, but I was tying my experience with games with various times, events, and places in my memory. Like a familiar scent or long-forgotten picture, replaying a game has the ability to transport me back to memories I thought were lost, almost like a time machine. For me, the years I want to go back to most are encapsulated by the SNES through the PS2 generations. One of my greatest regrets is losing my entire SNES catalog and a good chunk of essential N64 cartridges, but I at least knew better than to part with my PS2 library. When access to classic games from these specific console generations opened up on PS5 and Switch 2, it felt like a dream come true. However, I still hung on to those original copies even years after I could easily emulate them. Recommended Videos As convenient as these emulation services are, replaying my original copies reminded me that there's one major reason why I will never part with them. My own unique fingerprint Generally speaking, there's no difference between how the PS5 and Switch 2 present these classic games. Sure, the resolution might be different, they add some quality of life options, and I'm not on a tiny CRT in my childhood home's basement anymore, but they are intended to be as direct a port as possible rather than a remake or remaster. What I didn't realize was missing until I decided to hook up my old hardware again was that intangible but completely personal fingerprint we leave on our games. Replaying Ocarina of Time on the Switch 2 for the first time in decades overwhelmed me with emotion. Starting the game up, I was yanked back to that birthday party when I finally got my copy. After the party ended and only three of my closest friends remained for the sleepover portion, we booted it up for the first time. Memories I didn't know I still had of one friend cackling when Navi accidentally flew into the fence during the opening segment, or another trying in vain to hide his fear when we encountered Ghoma crystalized in my head. Flashes of the past hit me like punches to the gut as I played, almost to the point where I wasn't sure I could continue without breaking down in tears. Grabbing my original N64 cartridge, I couldn't even make it past the main menu without losing it. What began my emotional spiral was flipping over my old, discoloring cart and seeing 'JESSE' scribbled in bold, shaky letters with a marker. I had written my name on the game when I first brought it over to a friend's house to play and was terrified of losing it, somehow thinking having my name on it would help. Slotting it into my N64, that familiar title screen appeared and I was hit with my old original save files. That's when I broke down. My slot was number 2, named 7 Jay — my first alias. Slot three was Ian, my older brother. Except his wasn't always slot three; he had originally claimed the first slot for himself. One day, I had turned on the console to play and encountered what I now know was stick drift. The cursor on the main menu scrolled through all the files like a roulette wheel without me touching the controller. I should have just turned the system off, but I thought I could time it right to access my game. Instead, I accidentally selected Ian's file and then into the Erase option. The icon fluttered back and forth between Erase and Back. I was sweating with nerves to the point where the thought of turning the console off never crossed my mind. Praying with all my heart, I hit A…deleting my brother's file. Ian had essentially grown out of games by that point and hardly cared, but I was crushed. I swore to make him a new file and get him back to exactly where he left off. And I did. Still, he never played again and I always blamed myself. I spent an entire day going through my old games and finding tons of these individual marks I left on my games that emulators just can't replicate. My original Pokémon Blue team, with my Bulbasaur named after my childhood cat, Kiwi. My Harvest Moon farm with each of my chickens named after members of my family. My abandoned save file in Arc the Lad that I never touched after realizing my father had taken me out to buy it the day he learned my mother was divorcing him, and so many more details in the seams. From a preservation and access standpoint, services like PlayStation Classics and Nintendo Switch Online's classic games are vital to the industry. I'm not arguing against them, and would even say they need to go further to expand their offerings. But there's no denying that they can never fully satisfy our own personal nostalgia. Sometimes there's value in just holding the same controller you used a decade ago.
Yahoo
33 minutes ago
- Yahoo
I Desperately Need To Bleach My Eyes After Looking At These 31 Absolutely Cursed Items People Found In The Thrift Store
Ah, thrift stores. The place where you'll find either the best, most exciting score of your life, or the most heinous thing known to mankind. There is no in between. Here are 31 of the latter — the absolutely most cursed thrift store finds that I honestly hope I never have to see again: duck sweatshirt that sends a message: doll that's at least willing to admit that it's "Haunted for real": shaving brush (I think?) is made out of a deer's hoof: person undies, I guess: Related: pharmaceutical sneakers that probably have 95 different side effects: Mr. Peanut head that is looking directly into the abyss: haunted, sassy little container with an attitude: blue basketball that was made by the famous "Tfifeny & Co.": literal hunk of rock priced at $4.99: knockoff 'gotta-go-nia' shirt: shoes that might let you walk on water: u/-professionalretard / Via Related: bag of doll parts that's a liiiiiiiittle too creepy for me: dress for anyone who loves garbage trucks: Mickey Mouse statue that has seen some things: flip flops for when you really don't want to go barefoot in the grass: bunnies that seem like they know how I'd die: Related: little box made for "Mom's Treats," whatever those are: could've been a normal-looking clock if there weren't jawbones in the back: u/phixer00 / Via table that looks like Dorothy dropped a house on it in Oz: recipe book for making hot chicken: u/Competitive-Speed806 / Via CPR dummy that had a rough weekend: bag of protection that's being protected by three staples: very personal memorabilia from the 1990 Orange Bowl: shoes that make it look like your foot is always having a day at the beach: Related: 25.A sweatshirt that may or may not have been the end of its former owner's life: hopefully unused piece of exercise equipment: off-brand blanket featuring Winnie the Pooh, who is something: ointment-advertising mug with feet: SpongeBob costume that has clearly been out of the water for wayyyy too long: literal Children of the Corn salt and pepper shakers: finally, this evil snowglobe that I'm pretty sure contains Satan Claus: Now, I seriously want to know — what's the worst thing you've ever found at a thrift store? Tell us all about it and share your pics in the comments. And if you'd like to remain anonymous, you can use the form below. Also in Internet Finds: Also in Internet Finds: Also in Internet Finds:
CNET
34 minutes ago
- CNET
I Prefer the Merlin Bird ID App Over Meditation Apps for Staying in the Present Moment
I've downloaded countless meditation apps and tried all the breathing exercises to stay present. Yet, the app I wasn't expecting to help me with mindfulness is the one I've had the most success with. It's an app for identifying birds. I was just as surprised as you are. Merlin Bird ID was launched in 2014 by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology to help people identify the birds around them. Thanks to eBird, the world's largest database of bird sounds and photos based on 800 million global sightings, the app allows you to record a bird, answer a series of questions or upload a photo to name your winged friend. You can also use the app to explore the different birds in your area, no matter where you are in the world, even if you're offline. The app's homepage, with three avenues for identification. Anna Gragert/CNET One of my favorite features of Merlin Bird ID is that you can use it to keep track of your bird sightings and, like an IRL Pokemon GO, you can "collect 'em all." The first time I used the app, I sat out on my balcony, clicked the green "Sound" button and watched as the app identified the birds chirping and singing in all directions. You can see the different sound frequencies as they appear on a real-time spectrogram, a visual representation of the audio world. The next time I checked the clock, I was shocked to see that an hour had passed. Then, I dug out my binoculars and let even more time fly. What a spectrogram on the app looks like. Anna Gragert/CNET As any Merlin Bird IDer knows, there is no thrill quite like pressing the "This is my bird" button for the first time, and it never gets old. From there, you can record your location. The app, in turn, will save your report to improve its performance. Before long, I had different bird sounds memorized. In the morning, I would wake to the sound of a California Towhee's alarm-like and frankly, yes, annoying cheeping from a tree outside my window right as the sun started to rise. On walks around my neighborhood, I'd auditorially part the sound of cars and distant construction to hear the melody of House Finches mixed with staccato chirps of Lesser Goldfinches and the droning coos from a pair of Mourning Doves religiously stationed on electrical wires. It was the song that had been the soundtrack of my world, but I hadn't noticed until now. By sight, I'd recognize Red-Whiskered Bulbuls with their black crests and fire engine cheeks, a blush color waiting to be replicated in powder form. Black Phoebes made themselves known with their fluffy soot-black heads, statue stillness and ivory bellies. At the hummingbird feeder on my balcony, there is a never-ending line of customers with iridescent throats in sunset colors: Anna's Hummingbirds (my favorite, as you might guess), Allen's and even the uncommon Rufous, who spend all day fighting over sugar water when not watching the feeder from their magnolia tree perches. A customer at our feeder. I think they're an Allen's Hummingbird. Anna Gragert/CNET What's most thrilling is when the Merlin Bird app hears a bird that you can't see, making it feel as though it's your mission to treasure hunt your way to it. This is often a lesson in patience, as it may take you several tries to find the songbird you seek. Recently, while sitting in a new-to-me park, the app told me a Mountain Chickadee was nearby and I spent the next 45 minutes trying to spot it with my binoculars. It ended up on a branch directly above my head, and when I got up to leave, it flew down right by my face as if in on the joke that it was there the whole time. I've yet to find the Red-Winged Blackbird who always seems to be just out of reach, no matter where I am in my city, but I console myself with the seemingly all-knowing flock of Common Ravens (also unjustly called an "unkindness") evermore on my street and the surprising number of noises they can produce. Birds I haven't spotted ... yet. Anna Gragert/CNET I also often listen back to the comforting hoo-hoos of a Great Horned Owl singing a 9:30 p.m. lullaby right before the start of spring. I like time-travelling to these moments, though I have come across some retrospectively hilarious conversations I unintentionally recorded in between birdsong. With that being said, Merlin Bird ID does save your audio recordings but only on your device in the app. To share the recordings with eBird, you have to manually export and upload them. I now seek out unexplored wooded spaces to meet new feathered friends, an excuse for forest bathing, which has led me to see the shade of blue unique to a Ruddy Duck's bill. After a rainstorm, I've come across a group of Acorn Woodpeckers with impressive red mohawks excitedly pecking wet, softened wood while calling to each other. Like a conversation between punk besties over dinner. My area is known for its large flocks of Amazon parrots (and their persistent screeches), whom I've now had the pleasure of seeing up close as they use their light yellow bills to climb trees and collect their berries. And once, just once, I caught the backside of a Yellow Warbler in a nearby watershed park. The Acorn Woodpecker Anna Gragert/CNET Because of this app, I've spent more time listening to the world around me and less time in my own head, bobbing between the past and future. I've found myself surrounded by and in conversation with nature more than ever before. It may be the closest thing we have to magic here on Earth. Now, perhaps that is the key to grounding yourself: Getting your butt on the ground and taking the time to listen to those who are singing around you.
