Latest news with #Mankiewicz
Boston Globe
31-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
The problem with the Las Vegas Sphere's new take on ‘The Wizard of Oz'
Director Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up The 17,600-seat, 366-foot-tall, 516-foot-wide Sphere is the largest spherical structure on Earth and features an Exosphere with a 580,000-square-foot display, the largest LED screen in the So, why is all hell breaking loose in online cinephile circles? Because, as the CBS This Morning feature reported, 'The Wizard of Oz' is being modified by AI to create images and performances that were not present in the original film. Characters who were not originally in the frame now appear onscreen, as does scenery that was originally offscreen. All of this is generated by AI. 'Our standard on this was not to modify the film at all,' says Dolan in the CBS interview, 'but to try and bring you into the film, as if you were in the studio when it was shot.' Then, CBS showed a scene where AI created onscreen actions that one of the actors, who was offscreen in the original film, did not perform. Advertisement Sounds like a modification! This alteration brings to mind that commercial where Actress Margaret Hamilton is shown in character as the infamous Wicked Witch of the West in the 1939 film "The Wizard of Oz." AP Adding to the online fury, the CBS reporting cited here was done by Ben Mankiewicz, the primetime host and the face of Turner Classic Movies. In the interview, Mankiewicz seemed unfazed by a billionaire sanctioning the artistic butchery that changed director Victor Fleming's original vision. For fans of the network, this is akin to the world's most famous vegan interviewing Colonel Sanders and raving about his chicken. The entire interview clearly hit a nerve, especially for folks who remembered how TCM's founder, Ted Turner, originally had This is what Mankiewicz tweeted: '[T]he concerns over AI are real. But it is here. We must accept that. But this is not what our concern should be. The actors are gone. All they're doing now is extending performances to fit a large screen – completing work Fleming and LeRoy would have if it had been possible.' Advertisement Frank Morgan, Jack Haley, Ray Bolger, Judy Garland and Bert Lahr in the 1939 film "The Wizard of Oz." Warner Home Vide How do we know what Fleming or LeRoy (who also directed some scenes) would have done? We can't ask them. And no, we don't have to accept AI chicanery, no matter how hard tech bros and websites are trying to cram that technology down our throats. These assumptions are infuriating. Remember that the excuse for colorizing movies was a billionaire's assumption that contemporary audiences would only watch black and white films if they were in color. This reasoning failed to take into account that Technicolor existed when those films were made, and also ignored that shooting in black-and-white was a stylistic choice that required different lighting and color schemes. Keep in mind that this alteration of 'The Wizard of Oz' is different from George Lucas updating the special effects in the original 'Star Wars' trilogy, or Steven Spielberg replacing guns with walkie-talkies in a re-release of 'E.T.'. For better or worse, those instances were a case of the director modifying his own vision. We can argue that these alterations are also wrong, but at least we know the filmmaker's intent wasn't violated. Regardless of the quality of a film, each shot, scene, and camera movement represents what the filmmaker wanted to convey to the consumer. Without that knowledge, adding or removing something from the frame, or changing angles or aspect ratios, may very likely alter or distort that intention. For example, when Orson Welles's 'The Other Side of the Wind' was finished by others in 2018, 48 years after Welles shot the footage, the editing job didn't always feel Wellesian. Everyone involved did their best to mimic the director, but the 'happy accidents' Welles always said influenced his decisions will never be known. Advertisement Margaret Hamilton as The Wicked Witch, arms extended towards Judy Garland as Dorothy Gale in the 1939 film "The Wizard of Oz." Turner Entertainment That violation of a filmmaker's original intent is the major issue those cinephiles arguing with Mankiewicz have with the Sphere version of 'The Wizard of Oz.' (Which will cost you between $150 and $350 to see, by the way.) The idea forces the question: 'what next?' Will some billionaire bankroll an immersive 'Gone With the Wind' where Prissy is seen learning something about birthing babies, and audiences can feel the heat of Atlanta burning? A reimagining of the lost footage of 'The Magnificent Ambersons' featuring AI-generated performances? A version of 'Titanic' where the door is big enough for Rose and Jack? 'The Wizard of Oz' is only the beginning. And to think, this nightmare started with Fred Astaire being forced to dance with a vacuum cleaner. Odie Henderson is the Boston Globe's film critic.
Yahoo
25-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
George Lucas Reveals Why Yoda Talks Backwards at ‘Empire Strikes Back' Anniversary Screening
Since the beginning of his Hollywood career, George Lucas has always done things his own way. Almost 60 years later, he hasn't changed a bit. Appearing at a 45th anniversary screening of 'The Empire Strikes Back' on the opening night of the 2025 TCM Classic Film Festival, Lucas discussed his introduction to longtime friend and collaborator Francis Ford Coppola, his earliest experiences with the studio system and his path from 'American Graffiti' to the industry-changing blockbuster 'Star Wars.' However, despite the best efforts of host and moderator Ben Mankiewicz, he barely mentioned the film that the sellout crowd was there to see — and only then when he was good and ready. More from Variety How the TCM Classic Film Festival Is Programming to Draw in Social Media Enthusiasts, Multi-Generational Audiences and Major Guests Clive Revill, Who Voiced Emperor Palpatine in 'The Empire Strikes Back,' Dies at 94 'The Empire Strikes Back' to Open 2025 TCM Classic Film Festival - Film News in Brief Suffice it to say that Lucas' career is one that's been thoroughly documented and deconstructed; no fewer than eight books have been written about him, along with a handful of documentaries and nonfiction series. Even so, it was fun to hear him recount his grumpy disinterest in studio filmmaking — from that first day on set — and take up the lion's share of the 35-minute conversation to get around to explaining how, because he'd overwritten the original script for 'Star Wars,' he already had the story mapped out and ready to go for 'The Empire Strikes Back.' 'I write like a blueprint,' he told Mankiewicz. 'It's not got a lot of detail on it. And when I got the script [for 'Star Wars'] done, there was a 130 to 180 pages. So I cut it into three parts and said, 'I'll focus on the first one, because we'll never get enough money to make the whole thing.'' To be fair to Lucas, Mankiewicz may have inadvertently made a tactical error by beginning their conversation with a question about his friendship with Coppola. But to be fair to Mankiewicz, he could not have known that Lucas would provide an unhurried, granular account of his earliest days on the set of Coppola's 'Finian's Rainbow,' and the subsequent partnership that developed between the two youngest people on the ill-fated musical. 'I was 22, Francis was 27. He had a beard, I had a beard. We both had long hair. We're both film students,' said Lucas. 'Everyone else on the crew was like 65 years old.' Yet after Lucas playfully ignored repeated admonitions to hold the microphone close to his mouth so his answers would be audible, Mankiewicz finally got him to discuss a key detail in 'Star Wars' lore: why exactly does Yoda speak backwards? 'Because if you speak regular English, people won't listen that much,' Lucas said. 'But if he had an accent, or it's really hard to understand what he's saying, they focus on what he's saying.' 'He was basically the philosopher of the movie,' Lucas continued. 'I had to figure out a way to get people to actually listen — especially 12-year-olds.' Though the chat was otherwise light on details about the production of 'The Empire Strikes Back,' Lucas recounted the studio's lack of support for 'Star Wars,' first in hesitating to agree upon the deal memo he drafted. 'I said, 'I'll do it for $50,000, to write and direct and produce… But I do want the sequels.' And I wanted the rights because I'm going to make those movies no matter what happens to this one.' He said he added another condition to his contract that would again be life-changing, both for him and the entertainment industry as a whole. 'I said, 'besides that, I'd like licensing.' They went, 'What's licensing?'' Unimpressed by the film, the studio capitulated to his demands. 'They talked to themselves, and they went, 'He's never going to be able to do that. It takes them a billion dollars and a year to make a toy or make anything. There's no money in that at all.'' Underwhelmed by Fox's promotion of the film, Lucas said he mounted a guerilla campaign to generate excitement, foretelling a future where multiple generations of moviegoers evidence their support of the films and franchises they love. 'I got the kids walking around Disneyland and the Comic Cons and all that kind of stuff to advertise the movie,' he said. 'And that's why Fox was so shocked when the first day the lines were all around the block.' Mankiewicz concluded by lobbing Lucas a softball about which of the two new characters in 'Empire,' cuddly Jedi master Yoda or charismatic swindler Lando Calrissian, was his favorite. Again, Lucas didn't bite. 'If you have 12 kids, which one do you like the most?' the filmmaker deflected. The moderator's effort was noble, but like the film the audience was about to watch, it was one that ended slightly abruptly, and inconclusively. But at age 80, Lucas makes public appearances less frequently than ever, so the opportunity to see him felt like a rare treat — even if the unspoken lesson from the event is that the more eager people are for something, the easier it is to deliver it at your own pace. Best of Variety New Movies Out Now in Theaters: What to See This Week What's Coming to Disney+ in April 2025 The Best Celebrity Memoirs to Read This Year: From Chelsea Handler to Anthony Hopkins
Yahoo
14-03-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Contributor: NPR faces a real threat in defunding fight that's coming
In February, Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency put the nation's public radio network on notice. 'Defund NPR,' he wrote on X. 'It should survive on its own.' Musk's tweet was the latest indication that the Trump administration intends to alter the way the broadcaster operates. In January, Federal Communications Commission Chairman Brendan Carr announced an investigation into the legality of underwriting — the public media equivalent of advertising. Meanwhile, the Department of Defense ordered NPR and other news organizations to give up their offices at the Pentagon. Breitbart News will occupy NPR's space. During its 55-year history, NPR's funding scares have come almost on schedule, heralded by the arrival of a new Republican administration (Ronald Reagan, 1981), a rightward shift in the Congress (Newt Gingrich, 1995) or a decision by network executives that angers conservatives (the firing of commentator Juan Williams, 2010). The previous threats have been serious, but none as serious as what's unfolding now. The network is vulnerable. In 2024, former NPR business editor Uri Berliner posted an essay on the Free Press substack site accusing the organization of adopting a left-wing stance in which 'race and identity' were 'paramount.' NPR pushed back, but the 'bias' allegations received extensive coverage. Simultaneously, the network has been losing its audience. It started during the pandemic, as commuters who had tuned into 'Morning Edition' and 'All Things Considered' abandoned drive-time for radio-free walks down the hall to home offices. Listenership dropped — from an estimated 60 million in 2020 to 42 million in 2024. Read more: PBS and NPR on edge over FCC letter and Trump budget scrutiny In mounting its defense, NPR should look back at its earlier wins and losses. By far the worst incident sprang from the recommendation of a Reagan-appointed panel to cancel the entire budget of the Corp. for Public Broadcasting, the agency that oversees both NPR and PBS. Although David Stockman, Reagan's budget czar, ultimately opted for a less drastic 25% cut, Frank Mankiewicz, then president of NPR, viewed even the lower amount as potentially ruinous. In 1982, Mankiewicz tried to free NPR from government funding altogether by monetizing a number of embryonic online delivery systems that would beam stock reports, sports scores and news headlines to handheld devices while transmitting NPR shows to home computers and inventory and pricing information to business customers. The technology, however, had yet to be fully developed. Within a year, Mankiewicz was gone and NPR was $9.1 million in debt. The CPB bailed out NPR, but not before extracting concessions. Since the network's founding in 1970, it had received grants from the agency to pay for programming. Now, the grants would go to NPR stations, enabling them either to continue buying 'Morning Edition' and 'All Things Considered' from the network or shows such as 'Marketplace' from independent suppliers. Read more: Commentary: Documentary on Washington Post's former publisher reminds us there's one way forward for media NPR executives bemoaned the change but the advantage of giving federal money to the stations became apparent in 1995 after Gingrich, the newly elected speaker of the House, announced plans to 'zero out' the CPB. Where in the past this proposal would have been seen as a threat to NPR and PBS, it was instead seen as endangering beloved local stations. 'If you were attacking NPR,' a network executive later said, 'you were attacking your own community.' When an amendment to eliminate CPB funding came up in the House, it lost by a two-to-one margin. By 2010, when NPR dismissed Williams, the media world was beginning to fracture in ways that anticipated the current environment, and the firing of a conservative commentator became a litmus test. NPR's rationale for letting Williams go, which was that he'd made what it considered Islamophobic remarks while appearing on Fox News, fell flat. Fox lambasted NPR and handed Williams a $2-million contract. NPR investigated the executive who fired Williams and she resigned. Jon Stewart mocked the network on 'The Daily Show' with a reference to a gentler public radio commentator: 'NPR, you just brought a tote bag full of David Sedaris books to a knife fight.' In 2011, the Republican-controlled House — responding to the firing of Williams and to a later controversy involving a right-wing video sting that captured an NPR executive seemingly agreeing to publicize shariah law — voted 228 to 192 to defund the network. The Democratic-controlled Senate, however, did not go along. President Obama, who signed the bill that kept the funding alive, nevertheless aimed a barb at NPR during that year's White House Correspondents Dinner: 'I was looking forward to new programming like 'No Things Considered.' ' The defunding effort shaping up in 2025 promises dangers harder to joke about. During his first term, Trump stated that the CPB should be defunded. In his second term, he is unleashing an assault on the very idea of public agencies. NPR's defense will likely be that since it now gets just 1% of its budget from the government, it presents no threat to the national purse. But it's not that simple. According to its own reporting on 'All Things Considered,' while the stations indeed get more government money than does NPR itself, they end up spending a lot of it for NPR programs. With a president who openly despises the mainstream media, and with all branches of government in Republican control, the CPB will not be coming to the rescue. Yet there are reasons to hope that NPR will survive. First, regardless of Berliner's critique, NPR has always been a source of ground-breaking journalistic practices and superb reporting. It has established a solid foothold in American culture. In 1972, NPR named Susan Stamberg host of 'All Things Considered,' making her the first woman to front a national news show. In 1973, NPR assigned reporter Josh Darsa to the Russell Senate Office Building to cover the Watergate hearings. No other broadcaster had a reporter in the room each day. In 2003, NPR was the only American broadcast network to keep a correspondent (Anne Garrels) in Baghdad during the aerial assault that launched the Iraq War. NPR's current efforts are similarly strong, whether they be dispatches by Jerusalem reporter Daniel Estrin about the conflict in Gaza or those by Berlin reporter Rob Schmitz about threats to NATO. Ari Shapiro, now the cohost of 'All Things Considered,' recently contributed a thorough piece from Panama about reaction to Trump's stated hopes to reclaim control of the Panama Canal. Another reason for hope is that as opposed to 1995 — or even to 2011 — the American media landscape is in such poor shape that NPR is more necessary than ever. Across the country, print journalism has imploded. Commercial TV and radio news operations are also in decline. Especially in red states, NPR is sometimes the only source of local news. True, people everywhere now get information from cable channels, random websites or social media, but many still want what NPR offers. As Bill Siemering, the creator of 'All Things Considered,' put it in the organization's 1970 mission statement: 'In its journalistic mode, National Public Radio will actively explore, investigate, and interpret issues of national and international import. The programs will enable the individual to better understand himself, his government, his institutions, and his natural and social environment.' This is as good an idea now as it was more than half a century ago. Today's political climate, however, is even harsher than that during Richard Nixon's embattled presidency. In the coming fight, NPR will not only need more than a tote bag of David Sedaris books. It will need to rally support at the national and local level. It will need to bring a knife. Steve Oney is a Los Angeles-based journalist and the author of 'On Air: The Triumph and Tumult of NPR,' published this week. If it's in the news right now, the L.A. Times' Opinion section covers it. Sign up for our weekly opinion newsletter. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
