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philhoffman · 2 years

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This week’s Monday Philm was a very special one — Love Liza (2002), with the commentary track featuring PSH, his brother/writer Gordy Hoffman, and director Todd Louiso. I’ve been digging commentaries lately and this is the one I was most excited about, and I doubt another one could ever make me laugh and cry so much.

This is probably my most personal and complicated PSH film. The last time I watched Love Liza as a Monday Philm was the hardest one ever. It was the anniversary of Phil’s death and my last unseen PSH feature film performance. I saved it for last because I knew it would be special, and it was, and it’s become part of the painful and raw and emotional blur of that whole week.

The only time I’ve seen Liza between then and now was on Phil’s birthday in July — I had a PSH mini-marathon with a friend, got home in the middle of the night, made pancakes for myself, and watched it alone in the kitchen at 2 am. I believe there is no better viewing experience for this movie — it cemented in my mind that this is a personal film. As Phil said, theater is communal, but cinema “is just for you.” Love Liza and everything it represents — artistically, personally — is so close to my heart I can’t imagine trying to explain it yet, still.

That being said, the commentary track is fucking brilliant and illuminating (and hilarious). So much goes into every film that the audience may never know, and hearing a few of the core creators (who are close friends and brothers) discuss their baby like this, just hanging out, is the coolest thing in the world. I absorbed so much more about the film, Wilson’s arc, how Phil viewed him and other characters in the story.

Just a few highlights from my literal four pages of notes:

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Gordy’s voice before but wow — it’s different than Phil’s, a bit lower and slower, but their patterns and intonations are EXACTLY the same. Phil has such a unique inflection on certain words so it was trippy hearing Gordy speak in an identical way. The jumps, their whispers. Siblings!!!

Phil loved the basketball scene lmao: “It’s like in the middle of this suicide, gas-huffing movie, this guy just doesn’t know how to play basketball.”

It’s very special and hard and moving and comforting to hear Phil talk about grief and how Wilson experiences loss and navigates it, which he does throughout the commentary. “Of course [his grief] is gonna be too much... If something like this happens and if someone loves a person that it happened to as much as Wilson loves Liza, his grief is going to be too much.”

Phil broke a car and accidentally cut himself on a broken window and lost his voice and nearly got hypothermia and almost caught on fire during this month-long shoot. King!

In the middle of the movie, Phil’s cell phone rings (it has the dreamiest, most relaxing ringtone I’ve ever heard?) and a few minutes later he says it was Mimi calling: "[That was] actually my girlfriend, who’s eight months pregnant. And she’s in New York and she’s awesome and beautiful and I miss her a lot, so I’m just saying this right now to like completely immortalize it on this DVD, how excited I am. It’s just like, the most exciting thing in the world.” They must’ve filmed this in early 2003 — Phil became a dad when Cooper was born a few weeks later ❤️

The way PSH puts his hand(s) on his face in many of his performances is one of his most recognizable gestures but I really thought about it tonight. The way he’s putting all of himself out there, to be vulnerable and raw and captured on film for everyone, and his instinct is to hide himself, even in that small way, to cover his face and take a moment for himself/the character before letting us back in.

There’s a short transition between scenes where no one really says anything but you can hear Phil softly breathing, a lot like the start of Jack Goes Boating, which is always the sweetest sound cue. Then he says “sPoOky.”

Every time they mentioned another actor in the film, Phil was like “they were great they were so nice I had a crush they were a sweetheart <3″

He told Todd he wouldn’t film the final scene more than twice.

Seriously cannot overstate how much fun this was. “No more new PSH movies” is something that’s been heavy on my mind lately, but this track was like spending two hours hanging out with Phil and his buddies, watching a brand new film. It wasn’t a press junket or an interview or anything public — just him being himself, doing the funny voices he used with his friends, his humor, making fun of himself one minute and offering honest artistic insights the next, all his different laughs and wheezes. “I’m chewing on a coffee stirrer... 'cuz I’m so nervous telling you about my mooovie!” Just when I think it’s impossible to love him more, I realize I’m twice as in love with him than the moment before.

It makes me that much sadder, too. Hanging out with this side of him, thinking about the loss his family and friends still experience every day, not being able to shoot the shit and laugh their asses off with him anymore. So many people have had that awful, painful, Phil-sized hole in their hearts for almost nine years and counting. But, I don’t think any of us who are lucky enough to know Phil in any way would trade it for anything.

At the very end of the DVD, Gordy says you can email him if you want to read the screenplay, he’ll send it to you. Then Phil says, “And if you wanna just come over and hang out with us, and talk about it some more, we’re at www...” and bursts out laughing <3

#tldr I laughed I cried I had many epiphanies...#monday philm #love liza #philip seymour hoffman #psh #*#they talk abt when Wilson smashes the window and Todd says he doesn't like watching that bc he was worried Phil was gonna get hurt #and Phil says 'oh‚ I'm okay though! :)' and cracks up with this deep free laugh #my love my love my love my love

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arrowpunk · 2 years

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Pride Month lately and what that means for me as a Queer Christian, and every other June before this one I haven’t felt comfortable enough in my queerness+faith to really be that open about it or celebrate much or just take joy in the fact that I am both of these things which to a lot of the world seem so incredibly contradictory. I’ve got through a hell of a lot in the past couple of years and I like to think that’s made me a better person lol. It certainly has made me a lot more comfortable with my queerness and I’ve gotten to a place where, at least online, and with friends, I can be open about who I am, and I can Enjoy being who I am.

Being Queer doesn’t make me any less of a Christian, and being a Christian doesn’t make me any less Queer.

So I guess I just wanted to say Happy Pride Month everyone! And an especially happy Pride Month to all those people out there who helped me figure all this out, I really appreciate having such a wonderful, sweet, supportive group of friends.

#ramblings of an arrow #also yeah I changed my icon #Arrow can have a little bit of celebrating as a treat #yes I headcanon Jason Todd as AroAce #Why? Because he's my favorite and I love him #and also because it just makes sense in my head #annnnd because there's not enough like... angry aroaces out there...#aroaces are usually stereotyped as sweet and naive and I am neither of those things and I relate Heavily to Mr. Jason Todd #so uhhh yeah #not that it like is super important to his character or anything but this will just live happily in my head #but uhhh back on the actual topic #big thanks to Batty my dearest friend and life partner for sticking with me through all of this #big thanks to Hobbs for helping me figure out that perhaps that group that was so rigid about things like this #wasn't a very healthy place to be #big thanks to Else and Lucy and Liza for being such good friends and having a group of ace friends has been so wonderful #big thanks to Chloe for just being like all around the frickin' best I love playfully flirting with you it's very fun #BIG thanks to my new church family that has been so very loving and supportive and easily the best church I have ever attended #I never thought I'd find a church like this #big thanks to Jayy I know we don't like talk much at all but like ilu bro and also ur the one who introduced me to the side b groupchat #which was very formative #also thank u to uhhhh anyone I missed because I'm certain that I missed some important people and it's not that i don't love you #it is simply that I forget so much all the time

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thrashntreasure · 7 months

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Ep47 Spilling the Green Tea on Shrek! w/ Todd Buonopane! (Broadway!)

Happy Birthday Us! So open up and say YAAAYYY! And we're joined by the loveable Todd Buonopane, the Broadway Glam-Bear known to audiences as the iconic Jeffrey Weinerslav in '30 Rock'! Today, Todd treats the torture chamber to one of his favourite musicals, 'The Rink', as well as taking in a huge, tall glass of Poison's 'Open Up and Say… Ahh!' - Plus, this charming comedian shares the tea about his unfair dismissal from the US Tour of 'Shrek the Musical' - as well as a few more delicious stories that'll curl your toes! www.twitter.com/toddbuonopane

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oldmannapping · 8 months

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HC: Everyone in Crime Alley knows who Red Hood is.

They don’t know he’s Jason Todd but

-Norma Marshall knows that the young man who sporadically stays in the apartment across the hall from her, who fixed the building’s heating for free, is the Red Hood. She’s heard him coming back at all hours. She leaves him care packages with homemade chutney and Bandaids because she doesn’t have much but she knows his work is dangerous. Some loud angry men were banging on his door one day and she hid behind her door throwing eggs at them until they left.

-Brent Taylor knows that the guy who installed the security system for the youth LGBTQIA+ safe space centre is the Red Hood. He just showed up one day after they’d had their fifth vandalised window in three weeks, and set it up for nothing. Called it a civic duty. That same night, known Red Hood crew members started loitering purposefully in the area, escorting kids to the centre if they were too shy or scared to come alone.

Brent saw the guy about a month later, leaving a grocery store and ducking into an apartment building nearby. He’s pretty sure he knows where the Red Hood lives, but he’s not saying a fucking word.

-Angela Walters knows that the man who donates to the homeless shelter twice a month is the Red Hood. She knows that the Hood has a connection to the streets and his donations are always thoughtful and practical - not the generic canned corn most people throw into a box. His donations started at the same time as the anti-homeless bus shelters were dismantled by the Red Hood gang and replaced with traditional long benches.

She’s had police sniffing around asking questions before. She sent them on a wild goose chase on the other side of the city and actually got a little bit of a thrill out of it.

-Carla Moreno (street name Liza) knows that Red Hood is a guy with a hard jaw and white streak in his hair. Hood had been running off a John who’d been rough with Miley and the guy had gotten a lucky shot at the helmet with a brick. The girls pulled a dazed Hood into a nearby alley while the John ran off, and he’d taken off the broken helmet.

It was dark and he was wearing a domino mask, but pair the hair with his build and it was a pretty distinctive look. Carla knows that if she tried, she could find him. She doesn’t; she just compliments him on his upgraded helmet when she sees him a few weeks later.

-Ernesto Reyes knows that he’s the Red Hood’s mechanic. The guy calls himself Jay, is chill, and chats to Ernesto in easy Spanish when he comes to pick up his bike, but come on. Everyone in Crime Alley knows that bike. Ernesto’s had to fix bullet holes. Jay’s bike helmet is fucking red. The guy’s either dumb as fuck, cocky as fuck, or a dramatic shithead but either way he pays well and Ernesto’s had worse customers. He’s not telling anybody anything.

Meanwhile Jason’s just like “DOOP DI DOO sure is good to be a super sneaky crime lord ha Ha I’m so much better than Batman”

#headcannons #batman #jason todd #red hood #gotham #crime alley #batfamily headcanons #Jason Todd is Latino headcanon #I’m gonna end up writing this as a fic aren’t I #I mean unless someone else wants to do it #latino jason todd #bat family

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

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Habits and Roadblocks // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: none that I can think of!

Summary: You were Bruce Wayne’s secretary, both for his day and night job. That’s all, right? Just his secretary. Jk unless...

A/N: I am on the tail end of COVID and I took nyquil right before I finished this and posted. I apologize if anything is whack. It’s been a #summer. Stream Jason Todd’s tits on Webtoons. Not necessarily Bale!Bruce. Picture it as whichever Bruce you want. The nyquil is hitting. Good night, I love you!

You were a creature of habit. Every morning, you got into work at ten minutes till nine with a tray of coffees in hand and two breakfast sandwiches. After greeting Ernie the security guard, you swiped your badge to access the elevators and found yourself in a slowly emptying elevator until it stopped at the top floor.

“Good morning,” you greeted Liza. The floor assistant gave you a half-hearted wave but didn’t glance up from the calendar she was staring at. You paused in front of her desk and placed one of the coffees from your tray directly in her eye line.

“You’re a godsend and a lifesaver,” she mumbled, making grabby hands at the drink. You passed it to her and blew her a kiss before continuing on to the desk on the far end of the room. Mikey, Mr. Fox’s secretary, snagged the drink that you held out for him with a quick thanks and a gesture to the bluetooth earpiece that was blasting a cacophony of voices in his ear. You were glad your boss was typically late, rather than early, so you never had to worry about coordinating meetings until after nine.

But your boss was here on time today. In fact, he was early. You faltered for just a moment at the sight of Bruce Wayne seated at his desk, but pressed on.

“Good morning, sir,” you greeted. “Long night?”

The question was asked with the hint of teasing. You knew exactly what he had gotten up to last night. In fact, the majority of Gotham woke up to his exploits. They just didn’t know that their darling playboy socialite was dressed in a bat costume. Three years of working as his secretary, however, and you knew exactly what he got up to during the nights.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he commented lightly. You set his coffee and one of the breakfast sandwiches down on his desk, a small smile playing on your lips.

“A few rounds of chess with Alfred before a nice chamomile tea and in bed by nine, right?”

He took a long sip of his coffee and then sat back in his chair. “Exactly. What’s on the docket for today?”

You sat down on the chair on the other side of the desk and pulled up his calendar on your laptop. He watched you carefully as you dove into the detailed explanation of his meetings for the day. In the two years of being Batman, no one had wormed their way into his heart and stubbornly rooted there like you had. Alfred mocked him endlessly for his inability to express his emotions, but this was becoming embarrassing even for him.

He was Bruce Wayne. The tabloids were full of his exploits and people practically threw themselves at his feet. Did he take any of them home? No, of course not. He had an image of a playboy to maintain, but he had a cowl and cape to don every night.

Watching you wave and gesture your hands in the air as you spoke, he realized with startling clarity another fact that hadn’t come to mind before.

The only person he truly wanted to share his life with was you.

Damn it.

When you came in the next day, you weren’t surprised to find him not in his office. Batman and Scarecrow had gotten into it the night before and you were sure he would be sleeping in until at least ten. What you weren’t expecting was the bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk.

“Hey Liza?” you called. She poked her head up from the coloring sheet she was engrossed in and frowned.

“No one brought those by me,” she said. The two of you were immediately on alert. Someone could target Bruce Wayne directly but that would be a stupid move. Getting to him through his secretary, however, was something that had been tried before. You were adept at identifying threats at this point and unlabeled flowers that hadn’t been cleared by the front desk was a major red flag.

Security was in and out with the flowers in under two minutes, leaving you with your usual stacks of work on your desk and a small ring of dust around where the vase sat moments before. You were engrossed in corresponding with various journalists -- no, Miss Vale, you cannot do an expose piece on Mr. Wayne’s abs -- when your boss finally came in for the morning. He paused at your desk and you raised your head to look up at him, your pen cap trapped between your teeth.

“Good morning, sir.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Bruce?”

“At least eight, sir. Can I help you with something?”

His gaze raked over your desk before he offered you a tight smile. “No. I must be more mixed up after last night than I realized. Thanks for holding down things here.”

“Of course, sir.”

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing away from your desk with a heavy sigh. “One of these days, you and Alfred are going to unionize and I’m going to retire and flee Gotham.”

A wicked grin crossed your lips and you innocently batted your lashes up at him. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

Bruce waved a dismissive hand at you as he headed towards his office. You watched him walk away, you smile slipping into something more wistful and fond. Of all the men in the world, you would be hopeless enough to fall for the one you couldn’t have.

A week later, Bruce was in his office when you walked in and a small box was on your desk. You glanced in his direction, but he was pointedly looking away from you. Easing the satin ribbon off of the top, you opened the box to find a tennis bracelet inside.

A diamond tennis bracelet.

“What the hell is this?” you asked as you walked into his office. He didn’t look up from the papers he was signing and instead offered a breezy reply, as if he was commenting on the weather.

“I believe it’s what the kids call a gift these days.”

“Asshole. Why did you give me a diamond bracelet? Bruce, this thing costs more than my yearly rent.”

“We should really find you a better apartment,” he added. “Do you need a raise?”

You scoffed. “I like my apartment very much, dipshit. What the fuck are you on?”

He put his pen down at that and sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised at your sudden change in vocabulary. You thrust the box at him and shook your head before dropping it on the desk.

“I am not your charity case, Wayne. I know I’m not one of the trust fund babies hanging off of your arms at galas, but I like this job and you pay well so please don’t start buttering me up with gifts because you think I need to have Gucci or something.” Pointing an accusing finger at him, you wagged it a few times and then planted your hands on your hips.

“The money you spent on this could feed three families in my complex for a week. If you want to give me a bonus, do that instead.”

Bruce cleared his throat and took the box from where you tossed it. He held the bracelet up and you almost snorted at how comically small it looked in his large palm.

“It’s a, uh, it’s a panic button,” he admitted. “I figured…if you needed me, you just hold down on the charm for ten seconds and it would send an alert with your location. So I could find you.”

There was something sincere in his gaze, something gentle. You let your hands fall from your waist and instead crossed them in front of you. Bruce folded the lid over the box and set it in a drawer.

“I can see I overstepped, though. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for reacting like that. I just…sometimes I remember that you’re Bruce Wayne and I’m just me.”

“You’re more than what you think. I mean.” He let out a short cough. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. Seriously.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

He barked out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You came up, on the spot, with a lie to the media about me getting drunk and knocking an ice sculpture onto Lex Luthor when I was poisoned and got me out of the ballroom before anyone could stop you. I’m pretty sure Alfred has a shrine dedicated to you in one of the kitchen cabinets. I wouldn’t know, I’m not allowed in there.”

“Ah, yes, the Great Grilled Cheese Catastrophe. Alfred told me.”

“You two need to stop meeting for tea. Y/N, you are vital to this operation. This wasn’t a bribe or a way for me to remind you that I’m the richest man in Gotham.”

If Alfred was the man in the chair, you were Batman’s PR agent. You handled Bruce’s schedules and came up with lies for the media for his numerous injuries and disappearances. You were part of Batman’s team. Of course he would want to give you a way to contact his alter ego, right?

“I’m much more inclined to wear necklaces. Something simple. Maybe something with Wonder Woman? I’m a big fan.”

He scowled but you could see him fighting the smile that threatened to ruin his tough guy composure. Bruce never used his media smile with you. It was always the soft, gentle one he used with Alfred.

“Get back to work,” he called as you gleefully skipped towards the door.

The next day, Bruce called you into his office and handed you another small box. You slipped the ribbon off and lifted the lid to find a delicate chain with a simple star hanging from the center. You brushed your fingers along the piece and then lifted it out of the box.

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked quietly. He stood and took the piece out of your hands, his calloused fingers brushing against yours with an angel’s whisper tenderness, and you turned to expose the back of your neck to him. Bruce laid the necklace across your neck and then let the clasp fall shut. You turned back to face him and touched the pendant.

“So if I hold this down for ten seconds, you’ll come for me?”

“Always,” came his instantaneous reply.

“Thank you…Bruce.”

You wore the necklace everyday, even to the Wayne Enterprises Annual Gala where all the top performing employees and their schmoozing bosses gathered to brag about themselves. You were just glad it was at the manor this year instead of some glitzy ballroom downtown. Alfred was supplying you with food throughout the night as the two of you stood off to the side and watched as Bruce flitted from group to group, laughing and chatting. In an hour, you would interrupt whatever conversation he was having to inform him that Greta from the French Ballet was calling. You would slip away into the cave to prepare for the night while he made his excuses and Alfred handled the crowd for the night.

Easy, right?

So what was this sick feeling in your stomach at the sight of him dressed to the nines and flirting up a storm? It wasn’t like this was anything new so why on earth did you feel dread pool in your chest?

“He is an exceptional performer, don’t you think?” Alfred commented from beside you.

“Yes.” You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “It’s just an act.”

A gentle hand patted your arm and you tore your gaze away from Bruce to the kind butler next to you. Alfred smiled wistfully and sighed.

“Master Bruce is quite stubborn, but he’s not a fool, no matter how much he appears to be. It appears that you are the same which bodes well for me.”

“I- we’re just- he’s my boss. That’s all.”

“I have known Master Bruce since he was a little boy. I can assure you that he looks at you with the same intensity as he gazed upon the stars as a child.”

With that, the last tethers of your self control snapped and you found yourself drifting off to sea, lost and aimless. There was no way. You couldn’t possibly love Bruce Wayne. Bruce and all of his charm and money and thirst for justice. Bruce in his suits, both day and night. Bruce and that damn smirk when he’s bested you in some game of wits you unknowingly found yourself playing. Bruce with his complicated coffee order because while he could easily drink black coffee, you had slowly opened his mind to cinnamon and creamer and two sugars. Bruce Wayne who would come at the press of a button to save you because he was good and he was kind and he was unfailing in his devotion to this city and there was no way that he could ever love such a creature as you.

“I need some air,” you stammered out before escaping through the hallway that led to the main portion of the manor that only you, Alfred, and Bruce had access to. You hurried up the steps and practically sprinted towards the drawing room that had a balcony attached to it. Stumbling outside, you leaned against the railings and dragged in a ragged breath. How could you be so stupid?

“Y/N?” His voice was tinged with worry and you pressed the back of your hand to your lips to silence the pathetic sob that built in your chest. Bruce appeared in the doorway of the drawing room and he quickly crossed the room to join you in a few short strides. His hands came up to cup your elbows as you shook your head.

“You need to go back to the party,” you bit out.

“Not until you tell me why you’re crying,” he ordered. You shuddered at that hard, sharp tone that carried in his voice and he immediately softened his body in a way that you never knew he could do. Gentle hands brushed along your skin and that’s when you realized your cheeks were wet.

“It’s not important, Bruce. Just go back inside. I’ll meet you in an hour.”

“Really, what difference will it make if I disappear now or in an hour? Tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can fix it.��

“You can’t fix it, Bruce. You can’t punch your way out of this. I’m crying because I have to quit this job and I don’t want to. I don’t want to give this up but I have to.” You pulled away from him and crossed to the other side of the balcony, your arms coming up to hug around your stomach. He stared at you, but made no move to follow.

“What did I do? How did I hurt you?” His quiet voice shocked you more than your anger and you ran a hand over your face to compose yourself.

“I can’t stay, Bruce. I can’t be professional and keep my feelings out of this. I can’t sit back and pretend that I don’t love you because it’s not fair to you or me and I can’t keep watching you play these roles when I know the real you an-”

And then he was there, pressing against you and capturing your lips in a kiss that seared into every facet of your being. He cupped your face between his palms and breathed his devotion over you like a prayer. Kissing him stoked the fire that rested in your soul and ignited every nerve in your body. You stumbled back against the railing of the balcony, but you weren’t worried. You knew he would catch you.

“Some detective I am,” he murmured when he finally broke away, his lips brushing against your temple as he drew himself to full height. You rested one hand on his firm chest and felt the steady beating of his heart under your fingertips.

“How long?” you murmured.

“Since the moment I fell into your apartment and you stitched me up in the bathroom.”

You chuckled and kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a long time, Mr. Wayne.”

“Too long.” He squeezed a hand on your hip and pulled you closer. “Does this mean you’re still quitting?”

“I might be reasoned with to stay. Given some necessary discussions and agreements, however.”

“I can be amenable to that.”

You were a creature of habit. Every day, you walked into Wayne Enterprises at exactly noon with a reusable lunchbox slung over your shoulder and, occasionally, a small hand gripped in yours. After greeting Ernie the security guard, you swiped your badge to access the elevators and found yourself chuckling as your son greeted every single person that entered and said farewell to everyone who left until you reached the top floor.

“Good noon, Liza!” The greeting made the secretary beam and she leaned over the desk to see the tiny figure next to you.

“Good noon, Dick. Lunch with Bruce?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He puffed up his chest and you grinned, ruffling his hair. When Dick first entered your lives three years prior, he brought a new challenge to your life that you didn’t regret. Becoming a parent was hard. Becoming a parent to a ball of rage and anger and grief who could backflip like an Olympian at the age of eight? Terrifying. But now he was eleven and calmed down some.

Putting his energy into beating the shit out of the criminal underworld seemed to be a good outlet for that rage, but you were still consulting the parenting books.

“Go on in.” Liza waved you through and you thanked her with a grin. Dick dashed ahead of you and entered Bruce’s office with a cartwheel. Your husband chuckled at the young boy and you raised a hand to brush against the star pendant that hung around your neck, now joined by two others to represent the other members of your family, Alfred and Dick.

You were a creature of habit, but sometimes, roadblocks in the form of vigilantes get in the way. You could learn to live with that.

Tags: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fluff #batman imagine #batman x reader #batman fluff

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lavitaliz · 11 months

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#elizabeth taylor #liz taylor #black and white #liza todd #mamma liz #1950's

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mangle-my-mind · 7 months

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Todd Haynes on Mandy Slade

OM: How did you come to cast Toni Collette as Mandy? She doesn't strike me as an obvious choice for the role as it is written; her most famous part was in Muriel's Wedding where she played the podgy, Abba-obsessed ultra-hetero outcast.

TH: Mandy was the hardest part to cast in the film. It's a particularly demanding role due to the range Mandy has to display as she changes from the seventies to the eighties. This type of camp female character has basically vanished from our cultural landscape, as far as I can tell. The closest equivalent today is probably a Parker Posey-type character, but she's still quite different from the Liza Minnelli of Cabaret or the Angela Bowie of the glam era. Mandy has a theatrical, campy party girl persona that can be turned on and off at will, and owes a great deal to the gay male sensibility of the time. I think women around the world were liberated from all kinds of highly codified notions of femininity when people like Patti Smith entered the pop cultural arena. It had such a profound effect on women but girls today have no memory of that kind of camp femininity.

I saw so many strong actresses for Mandy, both in the US and the UK, and it was really tough to find the right one. We came close a few times, but it wasn't until I met Toni that it all clicked. I had no doubt about her acting ability, but the question was how to transform Toni Collette psychically, both for the camera and in her own self-regard into this very different, very confident, overly sexual creature. She really had to go off the cliff; I'm sure it was terrifying. And what you see in the film is such a transformation, such a complete commitment to the role that she almost becomes unrecognizable as Muriel in Muriel's Wedding. After a certain point, nothing was too scary for Toni. What you get with the character is what you get with the actress playing her - this range of changes and the effects of various cultures and various experiences on one extraordinary woman.

OM: Although the script informs you of Mandy being an American bisexual who reinvented herself, you get the sense of invention fully in the scene where she presents Brian with the divorce papers. She breaks down and you see the façade in a seventies context. It's a very moving moment and it's contrasted with Brian's coked-up emptiness. What did you discover in your research about the 'back-stage' women of the glam era?

TH: I guess Mandy's basic expression of real needs is made more vivid by that scene, but the beaten-down, hard-boiled Mandy of the eighties gives you the framework for that. She was definitely one of those people who was feeling and hurting and acting out at the same time. Often the casualties were the women of the male rock world. I really feel the film builds and develops complex sympathies for Mandy that you won't necessarily feel going in. The character is loosely inspired by aspects of Angela Bowie, and it's very easy to make fun of that kind of pop creature after the fact. But in all the books I read there was no argument on how fundamentally essential Angela Bowie was to the invention of Ziggy Stardust and to glam rock in general. She inspired risk-taking and flamboyance to a degree no one else can claim credit for. It wouldn't have happened without her.

Source - "Superstardust: Talking Glam with Todd Haynes", Oren Moverman.

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Emphases my own :)

#mandy slade #velvet goldmine #25yearsofvelvetgoldmine #velvetgoldmine25th #many things to think about from this.#first - Toni Collette's ever-changing accent through the film is a stroke of fucking genius #i will never understand people who criticize how all-over-the-place it is. that's the entire POINT #next - camp femininity!!!#Mandy really does more drag than the rest of the characters. I LOVE how performative she is with her gender #(also this interview is from when the movie came out and I think since then we've had plenty of displays of exaggerated femininity in pop)#then - often the casualties were the women of the male rock world!!!!#yes EXACTLY

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