Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"I don't need no stinking seat belt.

I prefer to be thrown free and clear from the wreckage."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"He pitched a script and two stars that could sully the Ganges."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"He pitched a script and two stars that could sully the Ganges."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"Another script edited within an inch of its life. Another day."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"I don't need no stinking seat belt.

I prefer to be thrown free and clear from the wreckage."

Cannes Film Festival 2013

© Jennifer Lynch
Cannes, France
2013

David Lynch

Perhaps surprise is not on the menu of today's moviegoers.

They want reassurance, domestic fairy tales come true, not the astonishment that Jean Cocteau demanded of art.

So all hail the American fringies, those filmmakers who make something different out of next to nothing.

And then . . .

. . . there was the trick with the sugar bowl

that Bill Reid had taught her for Thursday.

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"I don't need no stinking seat belt.

I prefer to be thrown free and clear from the wreckage."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

To: Bill Reid -- bigbigred@aol.com
From: Jack Nicholson -- unclejack@sbcglobal.net
Sent: 2/22/2011 1:47 AM

I just got your email and wanted to make sure you made your flight to Turkey. K? Well? Huh?




To: Jim Jarmusch -- crazeejimmyjoe@roadrunner.net 
cc: Barbra Streisand -- GiantFrigginStar@msn.com, Jack Nicholson -- unclejack@sbcglobal.net, Kool Marder -- toocoolforfools@aol.com, Roman Polanski -- shortnsexy@aol.com
From: Bill Reid -- bigbigred@aol.com
2/22/2011 3:12 AM

Well, I made it on time. I was picked up at the airport in a very nice Range Rover with flowers and a camera man on board. The hotel is very nice! It looks like I will be having a small entourage follow me around for the filming.




To: Bill Reid -- bigbigred@aol.com
From: Roman Polanski -- shortnsexy@aol.com
Sent: 2/22/2011 3:15 AM

What's the little chick-a-dee situation there in Istanbul? I mean, is it worth it?




To: Bill Red -- bigbigred@aol.com
From: Jack Nicholson -- unclejack@sbcglobal.net
Sent: 2/22/2011 3:18 AM

Get to the part about the oily brick of hash in the fruit basket. K? Well? Huh?

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"He pitched a script and two stars that could sully the Ganges."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"Another script edited within an inch of its life. Another day."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"Please ask your general practitioner if your heart is strong enough for sloppy story arcs and nebulous character development."

David Lynch

Perhaps surprise is not on the menu of today's moviegoers.

They want reassurance, domestic fairy tales come true, not the astonishment that Jean Cocteau demanded of art.

So all hail the American fringies, those filmmakers who make something different out of next to nothing.

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

Where do wild hogs come from?

Where do they get all of the magnificent story arcs for their scripts?

Who is signing passes for them to get on the lot?

What kind of cars do they drive?

How do they know my office number?

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"Every line I've read in this script has been written better somewhere else."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"In my mind I have to stop and ask myself, what would Robert Downey Jr. do?

Before he broke into that house in Malibu and passed out in that kid's bedroom of course.

K?"

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"I don't need no stinking seat belt.

I prefer to be thrown free and clear from the wreckage."

Bill Reid Hollywood Producer

"If I see that green car parked one more time in front of my house, I will augment my case of pepper-spray with an illegally obtained firearm."

'Nuff said !?

"Last Days"

35MM, COLOUR, DOLBY DIGITAL, 97 MINUTES, USA, ENGLISH / DIRECTOR/SCRIPT/EDITOR: GUS VAN SANT / CINEMATOGRAPHER: HARRIS SAVIDES / PRODUCTION CO: HBO FILMS, PICTUREHOUSE, PIE FILMS INC. / PRINT SOURCE/RIGHTS: RIALTO FILMS, 2005

Last Days is the concluding chapter of Gus Van Sant’s ‘death trilogy’ and a sensuous, contemplative study of Blake, a reclusive rock star styled on the late Kurt Cobain, who committed suicide in 1994. Blake (Michael Pitt) spends his last days in an exhausted, drug-induced malaise, muttering and stumbling around a remote mansion and its surrounding forests and evading contact with the outside world and his entourage of friends. Van Sant shows restraint, offering little insights or reasons for Blake’s eventual suicide; Blake seemingly already embodies a version of the living-dead.