The last of a dying breed.
Trivia that blew my mind the other day: To give star Tom Hanks an idea of how a 12 year-old would behave, director Penny Marshall filmed each “grown-up” scene with David Moscow (Young Josh) playing Tom Hanks’s part, who then copied David Moscow’s behavior. (via)
“You ever think about how in, like, a Tom Hanks movie, everyone lives in a reality in which there’s no such person as Tom Hanks? Because otherwise, people would be mistaking the main character for Tom Hanks all the time? So either Tom Hanks doesn’t exist in the world the movie takes place in, or he does exist but he looks like someone else? I mean, you could have a character break the fourth wall and go ‘Aren’t you the guy from Cast Away? Hey, sign my volleyball!’ or whatever but you can’t really do that in a serious screenplay, so you’re pretty much stuck with that bare minimum level of willing-suspension-of-disbelief before you even get started, unless it’s a period drama or something. And the funny thing is the more famous your star is, the bigger the leap of faith you’re asking the viewer to take when no one in your narrative universe recognizes him, so in a way, paradoxically, great actors undermine their own credibility by their very presence—hey, are you even listening to me? What are you—oh, that’s just Bob. He’s made of bubbles.”
EA: Speaking of serious, it seems like the moment you try and talk about art that is on the streets, you immediately run into these competing definitions—street art vs. tags vs. graffiti. Do you think the insistence on different categories has a place in the conversation about art, or is that boring?
Hanksy: You run into all the time. It’s frustrating. It’s like asking “What is art? What isn’t art?” I feel like the terms mean different things to different people. One person’s vandalism can be seen as another’s artistic expression. It is what it is. The internet, and people in general, will always attempt to lump things into categories. And they’ll always argue over it.
When I first moved NYC, I’d go on these long runs, all throughout lower Manhattan. And I’d see Muffin Milk everywhere. Different versions. And I’m like, “Wow this guy sure loves cursive.” Turns out it’s a t-shirt company or something. Is that street art? I considered it to be, despite the end goal of selling merchandise.