You don’t have to be a parent or have been part of raising a child to feel the vibes of Marielle Heller’s adaptation of Rachel Yoder’s novel. But anyone who has ever played the hundredth mindnumbing toddler game in a day, cleaned up ankle-biter messes on rinse and repeat or prayed that the little darling goes to sleep in hour four of lullabies will feel seen watching Amy Adams, as an unnamed mother, lie facedown and aghast on the carpet of her living room while her child jumps on her.
Following the internal monologue of our nameless protagonist, Nightbitch introduces us to a woman who used to identify as an artist with a vibrant life in Manhattan and now struggles to find a clean shirt in a daily suburban routine of caring for her child while her sweet, feckless husband (Scoot McNairy) works away during the week. Heller depicts this as a relentless, machinery hum of monotony – the same hash browns for breakfast, the walk to the park, the fraught bathtime, the wind-down routine, the sleepless nights. The Mother dreams of shouting her real thoughts at former colleagues she meets in the supermarket who ask ‘Don’t you just love being a Mom?’, of running away from the sunny mums she meets at baby book club, of ripping her husband’s throat out when he returns to complain about his room service and tell her that ‘happiness is a choice’. Which is when a pack of dogs start showing up at the Mother’s door, when she starts to grow hair, likes eating a raw steak, when a nub protrudes from the base of her back like a tail… Is the Mother becoming something else?
With its flirtation with body horror (pus-filled sores are poked with needles), transformation and society’s rigid view of ‘good’ women, Nightbitch shares similar themes with The Substance. Tonally though, it’s a gentler rage against the machine. Fans of the book will perhaps feel that a certain cat incident lacks, ahem, bite, while the ferocity of Yoder’s societal critique is softened. But while the satire might be less savage, the commitment of Adams is not. In a truly vanity-free portrayal, she sticks the landing of playing a believable messy woman trapped in a maternal Groundhog Day and wracked with guilt for having wished for it. And when she’s digging into the back garden earth, nose pressed to soil and nails seamed with filth, she’s a feral, joyous creature that you’ll want to run the streets with.
Though it wants its doggy treat and to eat it, Nightbitch is nevertheless another encouraging step towards a world in which every type of woman and female experience is represented onscreen – and will certainly play like gangbusters at mother and baby screenings.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Nightbitchis in cinemas now
On paper, Conclave does not sound like a thrilling and slyly comedic drama. Adapted from Robert Harris’ novel, it’s a film that revels in the minutiae and pedantry of pomp and ceremony. In Vatican City, the Pope has departed for the pearly gates, prompting church cardinals from around the globe to gather in their conclave and vote for a new pontiff in a specific and antiquated way. That means camping out in the Sistine Chapel and repeatedly casting votes for their favourite man until a majority decision is reached, for as long as it takes and as the world watches. A sort of Big Brother scenario with rosary beads.
But in the hands of screenwriter Peter Straughan and director Edward Berger, the repetitive process becomes a ticking timebomb, an intrigue and, yes, a thriller via deliciously tart dialogue, smart editing and an unexpected score that reveals the universal in the specific. The admin of the Catholic Church is rendered as a showcase for many of the deadly sins as the ambitious cardinals bicker, showboat, covet and envy in their bid to become His Holiness. The elegance of that presentation is matched by an ensemble of divinely talented actors.
Ralph Fiennes is our point of entry into this hidden world as Cardinal Lawrence, a logistics man in the Vatican who organises the religious voting and sleepover in the midst of suffering a crisis of faith. This, points out Stanley Tucci’s liberal contender Bellini, is what makes Lawrence a credible competitor to the throne. Certainly, Lawrence seems a better option than hard-line traditionalist Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto), obsequious Tremblay (John Lithgow) or nakedly ambitious Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati). But as the voting begins and factions and secrets are revealed, the race takes an unexpected turn when an outsider takes the lead. And, as the men of God plot and whisper, pray and pontificate, they are watched by Sister Agnes (Isabella Rossolini), a nun whose army of sisters provide their every need – including some home truths.
It’s as delicious to watch what isn’t said by such accomplished actors as what is. The curtsy Rossolini executes speaks volumes, as do the constantly-moist eyes of Fiennes as he wrestles with humility and power, the jagged weeping of a cardinal stripped of the big job, the swirl of Castellitto’s theatrical cape. But when they do talk (in brutalist bedrooms, shadowy stairwells, a crimson auditorium) the running time speeds by on amusing moments, plot twists and a finale that is both bombastic and subversive. A movie that engages heart and mind without overstaying its welcome and is a savage piece of cultural observation wrapped in red velvet vestments. Heavenly.
That Stephen Schwartz’s hit musical adapted for the big screen would please Ozians was never in doubt. Debuting on Broadway in 2003, Wicked was a musical touchstone for audiences embracing the outlier characters as well as themes of female friendship and being your best bad self. Adapted for cinema by screenwriters Winnie Holzman and Dana Fox, and directed by In The Heights helmer Jon M Chu, it’s a story steeped in film history and designed for cinematic scale – pushing the lurid world of Oz beyond the confines of a theatre stage. So big they split it in half, with part 2 coming next festive season, and a winter release date that lands it right in the middle of awards season like a beautiful pink bubble coming to rest in Munchkinland.
For non-Ozians then, the premise: a prequel to the 1939 interpretation of L Frank Baum’s book, Wicked charts the key moments that turned two schoolgirls from frenemies to besties and onward to battling witches of the North and West. An origin story, it asks the question whether anyone is born bad or merely formed by circumstance or shaped by myth and media. Opening with the death of the Wicked Witch Of The West (a puddle and that recognisable hat), sugary pink Glinda (Ariana Grande) tells the munchkins that they are now safe and also the story of their friendship. As students at Shiz academy presided over by sorceress Madam Morrible (Michelle Yeoh), spoilt, disingenuous Glinda is roomed with green newcomer Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), a hurt outcast who is rejected by her father and harbours a telekinesis power that is unleashed by rage and sense of injustice. Both girls fall for vapid Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey) and both journey to Emerald City to meet the wizard (Jeff Goldblum). Both will have very different outcomes…
All of this is played out over nearly three hours and via numerous songs (two of the show’s bangers, Popular and Defying Gravity show up in Part One) and there is sumptuous production design, kinetic camera swirls, CGI cityscapes, technicolor hoofing and high-note hitting. All as expected from Grande and Erivo, two singers who certainly have pipes. But where Wicked succeeds in spellbinding an audience is not just in the comic hair-tossing of Glinda, the appearance of two OG original Broadway cast members,Goldblum’s jazzy line delivery, the majestic swirl of black cape as Erivo unleashes her full potential while riding a broom… but in the emotional punch it manages to pack.
The connection between Glinda and Elphaba feels true as essayed by Grande and Erivo, a sub-plot about the treatment of animals is distressing (possibly too much for young children), the parallels with modern polarising politics are uncomfortable (‘where I come from everyone knows the best way to bring folks together is to give them a really good enemy’ says Goldblum’s dodgy wizard). But the real gut-punch is Erivo – a moment when she wordlessly displays all her emotions at a bullying school dance is tear-inducing and the adrenal spike is sure when she belts out the bars of Defying Gravity from the boiling heavens surrounding Emerald City. At the European premiere in London, her end credit exit prompted a tearful standing ovation and it’s likely it will do the same in cinemas everywhere else. Cynthia Erivo may have departed from Oz, but she enters the awards conversation in a brilliant flash of light. Though unlikely to convert musical haters, Wicked is the sort of four-quadrant entertainment that most cinemagoers want at this time of year. Pink does go good with green.
It’s a perfect example of the Arts and Crafts movement nestling in suburban Pasadena – and the onscreen location for the inception of Doc Brown’s flux capacitor. Hollywood Authentic goes back to the past (and the future) with the beautiful Gamble House.
To step inside the hushed, wooden interior of a Greene & Greene LA masterpiece built for the Gamble family in 1908 is like time travel. Beeswax- polished and sun-dappled, the house boasts all its original custom-made furnishings from when it was first lived in. To stand in the mellow sitting room is to feel as though the Gambles might return for dinner at any moment, perhaps from a hike in the unspoilt Arroyo Seco in front of the property, in an era before the 210 freeway thundered through the neighbourhood.
It’s such a time capsule that it was the perfect location for Back to the Future when the production was looking for a house to play the family mansion of Doc Brown. Confined to filming within the LA area because of star Michael J. Fox’s daytime commitments to filming TV show Family Ties on the Paramount lot, location managers combined the Gamble House exteriors with the interiors of the Blacker house also in Pasadena (also designed by Greene & Greene) to create Doc Brown’s onscreen pad (Marty’s family house was located across the city at 9303 Roslyndale Avenue in Arleta).
The ‘mad scientist’ character who dreams up the formula to crack time-hopping – via an adapted DeLorean car – Doc Brown, comes from a wealthy family and by the time he’s showing Fox’s teenager Marty his time machine in 1985 he is reduced to living in a garage/lab next to a Burger King franchise, having spent his inherited cash on invention development. But when Marty is accidentally transported back to 1955 at 88mph, Doc in the past still calls the family pile ‘home’ and the garage on the extensive grounds is where history is made: this is the spot where he perfects the flux capacitor which, as Marty points out when calling on him, ‘is what makes time travel possible’.
It’s such a time capsule that it was the perfect location for Back To The Future when the production was looking for a house to play the family mansion of Doc Brown
In a beloved, time-looping franchise, the garage of the Gamble House is therefore a movie lore catalyst for everything that comes after (and before, if we’re talking about chapter III). In 2024, it’s now a pilgrimage location for Back to the Future fans and a bookshop selling coffee table tomes on design and ‘Outtatime’ DeLorean license plates. The fans may come to reenact Doc and Marty’s banter from the film (they run from the house to the garage shouting lines about Jane Wyman), but they stay for the beauty of a building that is a perfectly preserved piece of American architecture. A gem of Arts and Crafts style, the space has been preserved intact where other properties of the era have been altered or stripped of original features. A family home in single ownership until relatively recently, the Gamble House has remained unchanged and loved through the decades.
Built as a winter retreat for so-called ‘health seekers’, David and Mary Gamble, of Proctor and Gamble fame, who wanted to escape the harsh winters in their native Ohio, the three-story building was conceived to reflect the family’s interest in the outdoors. Other wealthy winter residents had built mansions in Queen Anne and American Foursquare style on so-called ‘Millionaire’s Row’ – the Gambles’ Arts and Crafts creation was rustic by comparison. Built with an emphasis on bringing the outdoors inside (hand-crafted wood, repurposed granite river boulders, designs reflecting nature), the home reminds modern visitors of the wild country that used to surround the house as soon as they step through the triple-fronted, stained- glass entrance. The Gambles travelled extensively and architects Charles and Henry Greene reflected their adventurous nature by tapping into the trend for Japanese influence with their ‘ultimate bungalow’ design. Those three lead-glass front doors boast the image of a Japanese black pine, while the low eaves and wrap-around terrace recall the flow of a traditional ryokan – the glass lamp shades and doors are decorated with flowers and clouds. In the hallway, an elegant metal crane in flight dangles from the wooden staircase. When the sun shines through the glass at the entrance, the amber light illuminates the mahogany and Burma teak inlaid walls of the hall and open-plan sitting room, giving it a visual warmth that translates as a welcome. The maple and sugar pine built-in kitchen, with its forward-thinking island, is a room any modern day Angelino would covert now; and outside, in the backyard, an Far East-inspired pond tinkles and pagoda-style pillar lights lean towards a Japanese aesthetic. The detail is astonishing considering it was constructed in under a year and on a relatively humble budget.
The Gamble House is unique in that it was lived exclusively in by its creators and owners, David and Mary, until both their deaths when Mary’s sister, Julia, took ownership. Julia lived in the house until 1943 (she’s rumoured to haunt the place now as a ‘warm spirit’) and after that the property was donated to the city of Pasadena and USC’s school of architecture for preservation. That lineage means that while decor tastes may have changed throughout the years, all of the original furniture and fittings made by master carpenters Peter and John Hall to the Greene brothers’ design, stayed in the family and were kept in storage. Now, says Alex Rasic, executive director of the property, the house acts as a ‘portal’ to visitors to appreciate the artistry of form-follows-function design. ‘I am so delighted and amazed at how many people visit internationally because of [Back to the Future] and then we have the opportunity to tell them about the house. I see it as a gift for us to have that kind of diversity and the longevity that this film has had.’
The house holds numerous events on the property to ensure it remains a space where families and life still teems – so visitors can book in for Goat Yoga on the rear lawn (yogic stretches while Nigerian baby goats gambol around) or take in an outdoor showing of Black to the Future on the front lawn. A particular thrill to watch Marty wander up the driveway to Doc Brown’s home hoping for help to return to 1985 as the real building looms in the background. A portal indeed.
Photographs and video by MARK READ Words by JANE CROWTHER The Gamble House. 4 Westmoreland Place, Pasadena, CA 91103 www.gamblehouse.org
Back in 2000 Russell Crowe’s Roman general-turned-gladiator dispatched a number of foes and shouted to the baying crowd ‘Are you not entertained?’. They were. We were. A three hour Ridley Scott spectacle that resurrected the ‘swords ‘n’ sandals’ genre and dared to kill off its protagonist, it lived on in eternity in audience imagination; a perfect film in performance, script, production and effects. When Scott announced a revisit to ancient Rome, the bar was set extremely high.
Any fears that Gladiator II might not match its predecessor can be allayed. Like Top Gun: Maverick, this legacy sequel understands how to replicate what made the original so successful, without providing mere fan service or a duplication. Set two decades after Maximus was carried from the Colosseum to be honoured as a soldier of Rome, we pick up in the province of Numidia where Lucius, the son of Connie Neilsen’s Lucilla is now a grown man (Paul Mescal). Husband to a warrior wife, he is disgusted by the colonialisation of Rome – racing to fight at the port as Roman general Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pescal) sails in with a flotilla. Acacius is conflicted by his duty but nonetheless, his actions result in Lucius being taken captive and nursing rageful vengeance. Like Maximus, Lucius’s training combined with lust for revenge is a potent combination, marking him out as interesting to Rome’s twin brother emperors Geta and Caracalla (Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger), slave trader Macrinus (Denzel Washington) and Lucilla herself. As he battles rhinos, monkeys, sharks and politics, Lucius gets closer to his quarry and to celebrity status. And all the while the spectre of Maximus and his sacrifice hangs over proceedings…
Though Maximus and Lucius’ arcs and drivers are similar (and Scott takes care to nod to his first hero with sequences such a Mescal jogging up the steps to the colosseum in swirling dust motes that tug on nostalgia), they are different beasts in the hands of two different actors. While Mescal – beefed up and furious in his fight scenes – matches the ferocity of Maximus, he also brings a lovely quietness to Lucius; quoting Virgil at parties, musing on his background and showing emotional vulnerability in his dealings with his mother. He goes toe-to-toe with all of his opponents, easily stealing focus in a big movie filled with huge set pieces, massive crowds, sumptuous design and a soaring score. Though he was a movie star before, this role convinces of his stature in capital letters.
There are also big performances to compete against; Pascal bringing a noble grace to a conflicted man, Quinn and Hechinger tapping into the delicious petulance and preening of Joaquin Phoenix’s former Big Bad and a chorus of well known faces as politicians and nobility. And then there’s Washington, leaving no crumbs as a spiteful, sneaky self-promoter with a revenge plan of his own. Delivering lines as richly decadent as his swishy robes, Washington gives a masterclass in nailing a best supporting actor nod. The way he says ‘politics’ is sublime, a perfectly calibrated line between camp and deranged that lands exactly as he intends.
Scott can do sweeping spectacle in his sleep at this point in his storied career and Gladiator II boasts all the aspects fans want to see from his blockbusters; huge sets, detailed, tactile costumes, armies of extras and those cinematic moments that make you want to stand in your seat and fist pump. The alchemy of Gladiator has been expertly evoked again to create a movie experience that will please critics, audiences and awards voters alike. And likely a box office take that might facilitate a third outing. Entertained, indeed.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Gladiator II is in cinemas now
Photographs by MARY ELLEN MARK/REBECCA DICKSON/HERB RITTS Words by MATTHEW REEVE, ALEXANDRA REEVE & WILL REEVE
The children of Superman star Christopher Reeve celebrate his life as a father, actor, director and disability advocate in the wake of his life-changing accident in a new documentary filled with unseen archive footage and recordings. They tell Hollywood Authentic what ‘Dad’ meant to them on and off screen.
Matthew Reeve: We were approached by an archive producer to tell this story, asking if we had home movies, and would we be interested in this type of project – and we had also, coincidentally, had just boxed up our family home. So we knew what we had. We knew where it was. It was consolidated and accessible. We discussed it and we thought it would be a great project to embark on. The timing was kind of right – enough time had passed where [Christopher Reeve’s] story was still relevant. So it’s been really a case of the stars aligning in this lovely way.
Credit: Mary Ellen Mark
Alexandra Reeve: We’ve been approached in the past, often by people wanting to do a narrative feature, and we had worried that that would be just too much through rose-coloured glasses, and would only tell one very specific angle on his and [his wife and Will’s mother] Dana’s life. It felt important that if we were going to tell the story, we were going to tell it authentically and truthfully; in a way that allows you to connect with the man, and understand that there were lows as well as highs, that actually the strength in his life is all the more impressive because of the things that he overcame. When [directors] Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui got attached, it felt like something we could get on board with and participate in fully. We could sit for interviews where we would speak about loss in our family in ways that we’d never spoken about before.
Will Reeve: We said ‘if we do this, we would give all of ourselves’. I think each of us prepared for that moment individually. The night before I knew I was sitting for my interview, I went through a bunch of my mom’s journals. I have family photos all over my apartment anyway, so it wasn’t like I had to dig up too much. I went in prepared to fully and truthfully answer any question that came my way because I wanted it all on record – my experience and feelings.
Matthew Reeve: Seeing Will and Alexandra’s interviews, and them sharing their thoughts and feelings and memories – they were really the hardest moments and also the most meaningful and rewarding. Certainly we all lived through [Reeve’s horse riding accident, adaptation to paraplegia and death] together but I think when you have someone else asking a question and you’re sharing a perspective with an outsider, you maybe say things you wouldn’t just say in a conversation between siblings.
Will Reeve: We don’t necessarily go back and deconstruct it amongst ourselves because we’re living our full lives. So then to see, all these years later, those experiences through Matthew and Alexandra’s eyes, and for them to see it through my eyes, and realise that we did have that shared experience, but also have different perspectives… We didn’t need this whole process and this project to bring us closer. But it certainly – for me, at least – gave it a more contextualised understanding of their experiences as they’ve related to my experiences. I don’t think in the weeks, months, or years after my mom passed away that I stopped to be like, ‘Hey, guys, just so you know, I wasn’t actually asleep, right?’ [when the news came of Dana Reeve’s passing 12-year-old Will pretended to be asleep] but that’s an example – of which there are many in this film – that the full and comprehensive reliving happens throughout. We go to places, and so does the film, that haven’t been explored before.
Credit: Rebecca Dickson
Alexandra Reeve: It’s been amazing to see audience reactions [at film festivals] – just how much people are seeing themselves and their own story in this film. It dawned on us that our family circumstances were unique in many ways, but also that the themes in the film are so universal. So people are coming up, and talking about how they’ve navigated a loved one having a cancer, or being a caregiver, or dealing with loss, or thinking about how to stay a good friend after someone’s circumstances have changed. It’s this beautiful, humbling thing for people to see themselves in different moments, and connect to different pieces of this very human story. [Christopher Reeve] felt that too, very deeply – that for many people, he put a face on spinal cord injury and disability more broadly, because people felt they knew him so well from just that level of fame. And so if he could suddenly allow people to connect to his experience, and see beyond the wheelchair to see that he was still the same person – that really there are important, universal lessons to learn from that more generally.
Will Reeve: I know that it’s been a gift for me to see this film and use it personally as a way to make the image I have of my dad’s life and my mum’s life and our family’s story more vivid, and fill in some gaps, or further shade in some details that I either wasn’t yet alive for, or wasn’t aware of at the time. In psychology, it’s called a compositive memory, where you form an image in your mind that’s based off of photos and videos you’ve seen, and stories you’ve been told. Seeing those moments come back to life was a really touching and meaningful way to revisit the past. And then seeing everything that came before me – the Superman years, and even prior to that – to get to have a 360-degree view of his life in such a cinematic way has been one of the great blessings of this experience. And it was a disorientating experience at first to watch it, being like, ‘No, that’s me. This is about us’.
Matthew Reeve: There is no Christopher Reeve story without Dana Reeve, in the simplest form. It was not mandated by us in any way, but I think as the directors did their research, and we’d done our interviews, I think it became very clear to them just how important she was to us as a mother and stepmother, and how important she was to our father, and just what a remarkable, magical human being she was.
Alexandra Reeve: And to show our blended family, too [Matthew and Alexandra’s mother Gae Exton also appears in the film]. To be able to show that with the nuance, and the thoughtfulness to say, ‘You can have a relationship for 10 years. It can be the grounding moment for you, and then that can change. And then you can find your great love. And that those things can be in harmony together, and you can raise children stably throughout all that turmoil’. That side of a personal relationship doesn’t often get modelled on screen, and I’m really glad that they captured it as they did.
Credit: Warner Bros. Pictures
Will Reeve: I love that people get to see [my dad’s] silly, goofy, mischievous side. His public image, certainly as Superman, was literally the Man of Steel, and the dashing leading man with big muscles and the blue eyes. But he was human and grounded. He was a fun hang. His active dynamic lifestyle was of just always doing a million different activities, and always being on the go. I’m glad that people got to see his humanity throughout, which manifests itself a lot in his cheekiness.
Matthew Reeve: He was skilled in so many different things: flying aeroplanes, scuba diving, playing the piano, speaking fluent French, flying across the Atlantic solo twice, and gliding. He’d go up in open cockpit biplanes. I don’t think people really knew that.
Alexandra Reeve: For me, when I look back on my dad, the lessons I try to draw are that he was so determined and so self-disciplined in everything he did. And that’s a personality trait that was there way before the accident – it’s what allowed him to excel. And it was what got him through after the accident. Just the strength of character, and to keep persevering, but also to push himself to new challenges. He pushed himself to the limit every single day, no matter what the circumstances were – whether it was getting in shape for Superman, getting really good at skiing, or learning to ride a horse, or going out and directing a film after the accident.
Will Reeve: The way that my parents remain present in my life now is through the values that they instilled in each of us. I get told pretty often how proud my parents would be of me, which is nice to hear. It’s not always true, by the way – I’m quite human! But they would be proud of my humanity as well. I know that if I live in accordance with the values and standards and expectations set by my parents in the short time we had together that everything in my life will align so that I am living in a way that honours them, and would certainly make them proud. And I don’t have to wonder what they would think or say or feel because I know, based on the time we had together, the proper path as defined by them.
Matthew Reeve: I think Dad would feel proud of this film because it’s a beautiful work of art. And it’s just him on the poster, and he’s had a whole movie made about him. The actor in him would love that!
Credit: Herb Ritts
Photographs by MARY ELLEN MARK, REBECCA DICKSON & HERB RITTS Words by MATTHEW REEVE, ALEXANDRA REEVE & WILL REEVE As told to JANE CROWTHER Super/Man – The Christopher Reeve Storyis out now in cinemas
Photographs by MARY ELLEN MARK Words by GISELE SCHMIDT & GARY OLDMAN
Hollywood Authentic’s photography correspondents Gary Oldman and Gisele Schmidt look at the work of an award-winning documentary photographer with a personal connection to their meeting.
Gary and I are ever grateful to Greg for allowing us to grace his pages with our little stories and it gives us great joy when he asks, ‘Who’s next?,’ for us to blurt out a name that has impacted us so very deeply over the years. So when the question came around this time, we immediately responded; Mary Ellen Mark. And then, when we sat down to write, we were ultimately confronted by the blank page with the cursor mocking us as we realised where do we even begin? It’s Mary Ellen Mark, ffs!
Mark is recognized as one of the most respected and influential documentary photographers EVER. She has published 30 books and countless photographic essays in world-renowned magazines and journals and has received so many awards and commendations that it could fill this magazine twice over. How can we even touch the surface of the indelible mark she left on the history of photography? We can’t.
Meryl Streep and Mike Nichols during the shooting of “Silkwood.” Texas, 1983, Mary Ellen Mark
And why are we focusing on a photographer who documented the psychiatric patients of the Oregon State Hospital, the street prostitutes of Bombay, the teenage runaways of Seattle, or Mother Teresa’s Mission of Charity work in Calcutta? Because Mary Ellen was also the stills photographer on over 100 films from the 1960s to 2000s… Fellini Satyricon (Frederico Fellini, 1969), Mississippi Mermaid (François Truffaut, 1969), Tristana (Luis Buñuel, 1969), The Day of the Locust (John Schlesinger, 1975), One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Milos Forman, 1975), Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979), Tootsie (Sydney Pollack, 1982), Silkwood (Mike Nichols, 1983), Agnes of God (Norman Jewison, 1984), American Heart (Martin Bell, 1993), Sleepy Hollow (Tim Burton, 1999), Babel (Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2006), Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus (Steven Shainberg, 2006), Australia (Baz Luhrmann, 2008), to name just a few.
Mary Ellen Mark brought the same exceptional sensitivity and humanity to her work on movie sets that she did to the subjects documented in her photo essays. With her photojournalist’s eye, Mark’s photographs provide insight to life on set and the personalities of some of the foremost directors and distinguished actors of our time. With the release of Mark’s publication, Seen Behind the Scene (Phaidon Press, 2008), the Fahey/Klein Gallery held an exhibition commemorating this body of work. I had met Mary Ellen a handful of times through the gallery, but during this particular show, we spoke about narrative. Each frame should stand on its own; like a character, but when looking at a roll, it should tell a story, like a film. This conversation was years prior to meeting Gary and consequently well before he encouraged me to pick up my camera, but it is something I consider whenever I click its shutter.
We find that this idea is personified in Mark’s portrait of, Fellini on the Set of Satyricon, Rome 1969. Mary Ellen Mark recounted how Fellini was one of her favourite directors and that something amazing would happen every day with him while on set, ‘Fellini was wonderful in front of the camera. The picture of him with the megaphone was taken as he supervised a new set being built. Even though this picture is shot from behind, it is still very much a portrait of Fellini. You don’t have to be too literal when photographing people. Photography is not a factual, but a descriptive language. You must translate the scene visually and emotionally. This picture captures very much who Fellini was. He seems to be dancing gracefully, exactly like one of the characters in his films. This was just one moment, one frame, but it speaks to something larger, which is why it has become iconic. That’s what you’re really trying to do with a portrait, capture who the person is; get a glimpse at the essence of who they really are. Even if someone is on set or in a costume or standing on her head, you have to see beyond that to who they are.” (MEM, Seen Behind the Scene, Phaidon, 2008).
Federico Fellini with a bullhorn during the shooting of “Fellini Satyricon.” Rome, 1969, Mary Ellen Mark
And with her photograph of The Cast of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Oregon State Hospital, Salem, Oregon, 1975, Mary Ellen captured the frenetic dynamism of tension and claustrophobic environment of the film in a single snapshot. ‘The cast was gathered together after a scene. They were shouting at each other and at something behind me; I don’t remember what. Jack Nicholson leads the picture and makes it work, but there’s so much going on, with people looking in different directions and reacting to each other. There’s a palpable group energy, and yet the image still uses the space well and has depth. It’s not perfect; there’s a guy hidden in there, but that shows it was a natural situation.’
Another photograph that we feel encapsulates this notion is her photograph of ‘Mike Nichols with Meryl Streep, Silkwood, Texas, 1983’. Streep plays Karen Silkwood, the plutonium-processing plant employee who was killed in a suspect car crash as she drove to talk about safety violations with a New York Times reporter. The double portrait has Streep and Nichols seated at a booth in a diner. Streep is in profile looking past Nichols who sits facing us, the viewer. Streep, lost in thought, appears weighted down – possibly by the physical and mental strain of such a demanding role – almost exemplifies how Karen Silkwood must have been wrought by her decisions to come forward about radiation leaks and other hazardous practices within the nuclear plant workplace. And then we have Nichols, confidently glaring at us beyond the picture frame, representing the establishment and authority which challenges us to question and consider the story of Karen Silkwood and the beautifully crafted and nuanced performance by Streep.
Gary has a particular fondness for Francis Ford Coppola from his role as Dracula; however, what ignited a desire to work with him was Coppola’s masterpiece, Apocalypse Now. More extraordinary than the film itself, is the behind-the-scenes footage which was recorded by Francis’ wife, Eleanor and featured in her documentary Hearts of Darkness – A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse. The documentary chronicles how bad weather, health issues and increasing costs almost derailed the production of the film and could have possibly destroyed the career of Francis Ford Coppola. Mary Ellen Mark’s photograph, Francis Ford Coppola, Apocalypse Now, Pagsanjan, Philippines, 1976 depicts him sheltering from the unrelenting rain that contributed to the troubles of an already beleaguered shoot. The photograph exemplifies the conditions the director and actors faced but illuminates the exhaustion, frustration, and anguish as to whether the film and his career would be washed away by the rain.
Lastly, we wanted to discuss the portrait of Dana & Christopher Reeve, New York City, 1999 [See page 72]. There is not a more beautiful portrayal of the power of love. Dana had devoted her life to caring for Christopher after his near-fatal horse accident that left him paralyzed in 1995. Their bond was so strong that the doctors credited her for Christopher’s years of ‘borrowed time’ after the accident. As if she was his ‘medication’. Reeve may have been Superman, but Dana’s resolve, care, patience, love, support, and optimism was superhuman.
Mark was obsessed with photography, the process, the cameras, but most importantly, the subject and how to convey its story. We relate to that on a fundamental level. I have spent years studying photography and only recently begun to express myself with it, and Gary has observed and interpreted the characteristics of individuals through countless roles and a passion for all things cinematic before or behind the lens whether film and photography. It’s why Mary Ellen’s photographs captivate us so wholeheartedly.
Coincidentally, Mary Ellen is as responsible as Richard Miller for our fateful introduction. As Gary puttered around his home in Los Feliz wondering who took the photograph of Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean that early Saturday afternoon, he looked up at the first photograph he had ever acquired, Mark’s, ‘Fellini on the Set of Satyricon’. As he had acquired the print from Fahey/Klein, it’s what led him to return to the gallery to seek out an answer. He just never expected to find the answer, acquire the photograph and eventually get so much more!
Francis Ford Coppola sheltering from the rain during the shooting of Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now.” Pagsanjan, Philippines, 1976, Mary Ellen Mark
Photographs by REBECCA DICKSON, ANTON RODRIGUEZ, ELEONORA BOSCARELLI and CHARLIE MCKAY Words by ABBIE CORNISH
Hollywood Authentic’s restaurant correspondent Abbie Cornish enjoys a British twist on Mexican classics in a Michelin-starred Marylebone must-visit.
Chef Santiago Lastra has a skill in bringing ingredients to life that may otherwise be perceived as simple or ordinary, re-inventing them in a more complex, interesting and unique way. A spin on the Spanish word ‘col’, meaning cabbage, the name is certainly symbolic and harmonious with Lastra’s special talent – transforming a commonly known word into an innovative creation, just like Lastra’s menu itself.
Located in the beautiful neighborhood of Marylebone in London, KOL embodies the heart and soul of Mexico, honoring its cultural traditions, reimagined with local British produce. With a desire to ‘transport people to different places in which they feel like they’re in a different world’, Lastra has orchestrated a fine dining experience that will delight the taste buds and ignite one’s appetite with its captivating and delectable dishes. Since opening in 2020 the restaurant has garnered many awards and accolades, one of which is a Michelin star, and more recently was named 17th best restaurant in the World’s 50 Best. Satisfaction is guaranteed in more ways than one, and it’s safe to say you can add KOL to your up-and-coming dining list in London, and move it straight to the top.
The space itself, envisaged by Chef Lastra and designed by Alessio Nardi, brings the essence of Mexico to London. Clean lines of a Danish/Nordic design are evident, working cohesively alongside a vibe reminiscent of the late ’70s and early ’80s in Mexico City. The vibe is rustic, cozy, yet sophisticated and stylish. The kitchen, oven, and chimney are front and centre. Original wood and leather furniture (by Nardi) are complemented by handcrafted ceramics sourced from local UK and Ireland-based artists. The attention to detail is admirable, all of which makes for an agreeable and pleasant surround.
Before London, Lastra worked with Andoni Aduriz at Mugaritz in San Sebastian and with René Redzepi and Noma on their seven-week residency in Mexico. He travelled extensively across Europe, southeast Asia, Japan and Russia (27 countries in all), showcasing the diversity of Mexico’s recipes and cultural heritage, using only ingredients sourced from each destination along the way. He studied at the Arte Culinario Coronado in Mexico, completed a Master’s Degree in Culinary Innovation at the Basque Culinary Center in Spain and a development course at the Nordic Food Lab at the University of Copenhagen in Denmark. All of which led Chef Lastra to KOL. A passionate and somewhat ambitious venture, and one that has proved to be successful, award-worthy, much loved, and a great addition to London’s West End.
In the main dining area is a 14-course tasting menu only, and can be paired with a selection of wine and/or Mezcal. A shorter seven-course menu is available upon request at lunch from Wednesday to Friday. Guests can also enjoy off-menu items along with an extensive beverage menu in the restaurant’s Mezcaleria, a relaxed Oaxacan-inspired and cozy watering hole. For the tasting menus, expect an interesting array of wild food and seasonality in dishes that reflect the bright, fresh flavors of Mexican cooking.
Seasonal and natural, the food is light and healthy. And the overall experience is captivating and dynamic. I loved the langoustine taco made with smoked chilies and sea buckthorn, inspired by ‘lobsters on the beach’ off the coast of Mexico, in between Ensenada and Tijuana. The langoustines, sourced from Scotland, are freshly caught and available all year round, making this dish a staple on the menu. The langoustines are roasted with chilies and sauerkraut, and are delicately dressed with the juice of a sour berry that is grown locally on the coast. Served on tortillas made with duck fat and sourdough bread, these tacos are a warm, tantalizing delight. Also well worth a mention is the guacamole ice cream. A guacamole (sans avocado) made with hemp seeds and courgettes. The courgettes are sliced and cooked, just enough to break them down, after which hemp seeds are added and a creamy avocado-like ice cream is made. Served with a crumble of corn masa, pico de gallo, and handpicked sunflower seeds and finished with sunflower petals, caviar sauce (aged seven months), along with smoked oil and fermented blueberries. This dish is delectable to say the least.
KOL has an outstanding selection of mezcal, and a solid wine list, highlighting orange and natural wines, from different parts of Europe and central Eastern Europe. The handcrafted cocktails are top notch. My favorite cocktail is the ‘La Cigala’. Made with rhubarb, whiskey, mezcal, and verjus, this sparkling cocktail is great on its own and also pairs perfectly with the langoustine taco. Allergies and dietary restrictions are accommodated upon request. Vegetarian and vegan menus are also available. Overall KOL is a delightful, delicious, progressive, and entertaining restaurant. Extensively researched, it’s more than just a dining experience. It’s a front-row seat to a performance that is the culmination of seven years of dedicated study and development by Chef Santiago Lastra. I highly encourage you to take a seat and enjoy the show!
Photographs by REBECCA DICKSON, ANTON RODRIGUEZ, ELEONORA BOSCARELLI and CHARLIE MCKAY Words by ABBIE CORNISH KOL, 9 Seymour Street, Marylebone, London W1H 7BA www.kolrestaurant.com
The Academy Award-nominated screenwriter of 1917, Last Night in Soho and The Good Nurse, Krysty Wilson-Cairns, salutes a series of mishaps that honed Francis Ford Coppola’s unfinished espionage film into a perfect classic.
The foundational years that formed my sense of myself as a writer took place mostly in isolation. Initially in a bedroom, then in a series of bedrooms. Sometimes perhaps punctuated by sessions in the real world, cocooned from it in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. This useful isolation from the world became, more than anything, a badge of validation. ‘Look! How she squints in the daylight. Gaze upon her ghostly pallor.’ I was serious. I was a writer.
Because at the end of the process I would inevitably emerge back into society with something to show. I would emerge with a screenplay. And without a screenplay, what would the directing students direct, what would the acting students act? As a screenwriting student, I knew the truth. No matter how much the auteur theory was hammered into the directing students and the art of improvisation fed to the actors, the screenplay was key. I understood my work to be something immutable. Sent out in the world complete. Like a painting or a photograph.
The Conversation poster, 1974. Alamy
At that time, my favoured texts were the ones that worked hard to get the win. The sharp, twisty thrillers that showed a masterful corralling of the audience’s attention from beginning to end. Those films that took you one way before pulling the rug out from under you. Most of all, I loved the paranoid thrillers that came out of the USA in the ’70s. Three Days of the Condor, The Parallax View, Klute… films that spun the audience a web of lies and confusion before pulling out the rug from under them and saying, ‘No, this is how it really is.’ Paranoid, anxious, tightly wound. (In no way a reflection of my mind at the time…)
Above them all stood The Conversation. A sparse, taut, tense thriller starring Gene Hackman alongside the late, great John Cazale (can any actor have given so much in such a tragically short career?). With cameos from Frederic Forrest, Robert Duvall, Harrison Ford, Teri Garr and Cindy Willams, The Conversation was at the apex of the talent that defined the New Hollywood of that decade.
Written and directed by the great Francis Ford Coppola, if any film was evidence of the primacy of the screenplay it was The Conversation – 112 minutes of terse, tight character action. Hackman (never better) plays Harry Caul, a reclusive, emotionally closed private investigator who is hired by a mysterious client to record a seemingly mundane conversation. Inevitably the job is not as simple as sold and Harry is left contemplating the morality of his work, along with his role in the world. What feels like very low stakes to begin with soon becomes a matter of life or death.
But that’s not why I loved it. I loved it for the exactitude of the writing. The entire plot hinging on a glorious pay-off at the end that relies on, of all things, intonation of key dialogue. ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ is the line you’ll remember from this film. It’s what everything leads towards and, despite its intonation being somewhat lost in the multiple languages in subtitles on the screen during its premiere at Cannes, it still won the Palme D’Or that year – and rightly so. Could anything be more writerly? More illustrative of the primacy of the script, of the screenwriter’s intentionality? That Coppola, the writer, pulls us through his world for almost two whole hours before pulling it all out from under us with something so simple as the emphasis of a pronoun! Except, of course, he didn’t… well not exactly.
Imagine my surprise when at a BFI screening and Q&A, Walter Murch, the film’s sound designer and editor, suggested an alternative. In Murch’s retelling, an entirely different version of Coppola’s film was originally planned: one that stuck closely to a bloated 157-page screenplay. As fate would have it, Coppola was called early to start shooting his next studio tentpole, The Godfather Part II, leaving the much smaller, more experimental The Conversation with 78 scenes yet to be shot. Seventy-eight! And so, Coppola flew off, leaving the existing footage in the very capable, but rather green, hands of the young Walter Murch. Coppola just told Murch: ‘Do what you can.’
The Coversation, 1974. Paramount Pictures/Alamy
None of the scenes in which Harry tracks down the girl, gets all the answers and discovers the real story had been shot. So, the film’s narrative, as it existed in celluloid, in stacked 35mm reels in the editing room, currently had no denouement. Faced with a film missing over a fifth of its screenplay, with little chance of additional shooting days from the studio, and with his director on the other side of the country, Murch did the only thing he could. He tore up the screenplay and worked with what he had.
In one ingenious move, Murch completely redesigned the film’s story and structure. The film’s pivotal scene takes place in the aftermath of a drunken party. The woman Harry has slept with steals the vital recordings, forcing Harry into action and the film towards its conclusion. Only, the way the scene was written (and filmed) was originally much more throwaway – the woman’s role in the film was to validate Harry’s distrust, not further the plot (she originally only steals plans for a recording device for Harry’s competitor).
By thrusting a minor character into the thick of the plot, Murch consolidated the two storylines, and all it took was a single additional shot – a cutaway of Harry’s arms revealing the stolen tape reels. Using Hackman’s brother as a stand-in, Murch recreated the set in a corner of a stage being used by another film that was shooting at the time – Chinatown. They didn’t even have to pay for the camera hire. In that one move, an unwieldy, twisty, 240-minute thriller becomes a tight, sparse, sinewy sub-two-hour masterpiece.
You might ask, as a writer, what of the excised material would I be interested in seeing restored? The answer: none of it. From my current perspective, as one who has emerged from the cave, and who has been on set during the filming and in the edit of all the films I’ve written, I’ve been able to experience first-hand how much the story evolves and needs to evolve during the filmmaking process. I now know all too well that the primacy of the screenplay (much like the auteur theory) is a fallacy. An illusion, to justify those weeks spent in the dark. Typing. Alone. Who am I to assume that whatever motivation I conjured while sitting in my pyjamas will ring true after an actor has brought life to it in front of a camera years later.
If it’s not in the film, it doesn’t exist. The casting, the designing, the actual shooting takes that immutable thing – the screenplay – and whittles it, hones it and sometimes just negates it for something else truer, which is what we see on screen. And that line that I loved, ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ – that intonation that expertly shifts emphasis, turning a repeated, innocuous plea into a wilful declaration of violence? A happy accident. A mistake by the actor, marked on the day as a bad take, destined for the cutting-room floor, but that ultimately replaced the work of 78 unshot scenes of slow realisation with the time it takes to say eight words. I like to be efficient when I write, but this is a next level of genius, and a perfect example of the screenwriter’s mantra – show it, don’t tell it. Famous for going back and re-editing his own films, The Conversation was the one film that Coppola had always thought was ‘perfect, just the way it is’. Because of course, it is. It’s perfect. It may have come about through a series of mishaps and the incredible talent of Murch’s editing, but it couldn’t be any other way.
The Conversation, 1974. American Zoetrope/Alamy
Words by KRYSTY WILSON-CAIRNS The Conversation (1974), Paramount Pictures, written and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, starring Gene Hackman. Available on Apple TV
Words and photographs by LAURA SYMONS & DAMIAN HARRIS
It may be winter, but the desert always offers sun. One of our travel correspondents, Laura Symons, takes a spin out of LA with writer/director Damian Harris to find cinematic desert vistas and quirky road trip stops fit for a Chairman and a King.
DAMIAN Los Angeles and the desert: both exist for most of us in the movies or TV, and everyone has their own favourite moment. The first idea I had of the city and the surrounding desert was from Roman Polanski and Robert Towne’s Chinatown, when John Huston told Jack Nicholson (and which was the premise of the film) that, ‘Either you bring the water to LA or you bring LA to the water.’
Chinatown, 1974. Paramount Pictures/Alamy
The trip to the desert means setting off east on Interstate 10, heading towards Palm Springs on the same route as the iconic credit sequence in Paul Schrader’s American Gigolo (1980), with Richard Gere driving his convertible black Mercedes 450SL while Blondie blasts ‘Call Me’, on his way to service another wife (this time while the husband watches). US audiences went crazy when Gere first appeared on screen and a sex icon, especially a gay sex icon, was born. Seven years later in the film adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’ Less Than Zero, the same highway is the setting as the drug-addicted character played by Robert Downey Jr. dies in the front seat of Andrew McCarthy’s red ’59 Chevy Corvette convertible, from a beating drug dealer James Spader gave him, while Jami Gertz looks on helplessly to Thomas Newman’s lush score and the sweeping camera of director Marek Kanievska.
American Gigolo, 1980. Paramount Pictures/Alamy Less Than Zero, 1987. 20th Century Fox/Alamy
More recently, Palm Springs was the setting for the hilarious time-loop comedy of the same name (2020), in which Andy Samberg finds himself replaying the same day at a desert destination wedding, where he intended to off himself. Naturally he finds true love and a renewed zest for life. The opening sequence for Don’t Worry Darling (2022) was filmed in the famous Kaufmann House, and the majority of Olivia Wilde’s film was shot in and around the desert city, made dazzlingly beautiful by cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Liberace’s Palm Springs’ mansion is the setting for the final months of his life in Behind The Candelabra (2013) Steven Soderbergh’s examination of the relationship between Liberace, played by Michael Douglas, and his younger lover Scott Thorson, played by Matt Damon. Both are excellent.
Behind The Candelabra, 2013. HBO Films/Alamy
Palm Springs has been a host to Hollywood legends over the years. After a string of flops and believing his career over, Cary Grant retreated to his home in Palm Springs in 1953 to live out his retirement, that is until frequent house guest Alfred Hitchcock succeeded in luring him back to the screen two years later to star in To Catch A Thief (which kick-started the huge career resuscitation that included North By Northwest, An Affair To Remember and Charade.)
Cary Grant’s House. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
Steve McQueen was a legend when it came to motorbikes (or anything over 80 mph). It was on the desert roads outside Palm Springs, where he lived, and in Joshua Tree that he would ride his beloved motorbikes on the endless empty desert roads for hours, perhaps rehearsing the ending of The Great Escape when he jumps two of the three barbed wire fences, falling at the third.
Elvis Presley was introduced to Palm Springs by his manager Colonel Tom Parker who had a home there. Elvis leased architect William Krisel’s aptly named House of Tomorrow and, with his upcoming marriage to Priscilla, renamed it Elvis Honeymoon Hideaway. He had intended to be married in the house but gossip columnist Rona Barrett’s leak in the press forced the young couple to sneak out late at night on Frank Sinatra’s private jet and instead tie the knot in Vegas. Later, in 1970, Elvis would buy his own home and spend three months a year there till he passed in 1977. The most famous Palm Springs resident was probably Frank Sinatra, (see the 2018 doc Sinatra in Palm Springs). He never made a film there, but he did perform in nightclubs and concert halls both alone and with his Rat Pack. He famously dubbed his Palm Springs home the ‘west coast White House’ in hopes of luring then-President JFK to come stay, even building a helicopter pad with the presidential seal painted on it. JFK did come to stay, but the bait was more likely house guest Marilyn Monroe.
Elvis Honeymoon Hideaway. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisTwin Palms Frank Sinatra Estate. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
About an hour from Palm Springs is Joshua Tree, and a totally different vibe. In the 1940s, Hollywood came to this part of the desert to make western films and TV series, due to it being both a closer and more convenient location than Arizona, Utah and Texas. Pioneertown was born, conceived as both a working set and residential area. Over 50 films and TV shows were made here during the ’40s and ’50s. The desert itself has been a location to several films, one of the more famous is Martin McDonagh’s Seven Psychopaths (2012), where Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell and Christopher Walken hide out in Joshua Tree from gangster Woody Harrelson, resulting in peyote-inspired desert wanderings and stand-offs. Less famous is the comedy horror film Crack Whore about a young girl who comes to party in Joshua Tree but instead gets into escalating trouble with drugs and gangs. As I said, it’s a different vibe in the desert.
Go directly west till you hit the sea and Laguna Beach, a favourite of Hollywood for its coastal location. In 1942 constrained by a world war, it stood in for Buenos Aires in Bette Davis’ Now, Voyager, later in 1954’s A Star Is Born, Judy Garland and James Mason picnic by the beach and Garland sings ‘It’s a New World’ (both scenes were initially cut from the released version but restored 30 years later). More recently in 2012, Oliver Stone made Laguna Beach fun and sexy in Savages as Blake Lively romped in a threesome with Taylor Kitsch and Aaron Taylor-Johnson (worth seeing also for the over-the-top turns of villains Salma Hayek and Benicio del Toro).
While steeped in movie history, the areas also have plenty to offer any curious visitor. From the sweeping landscapes to extraordinarily kitsch installations, there is much to be enjoyed in the region…
LAURA
In Coachella Valley, an essential stop is Pappy + Harriet’s restaurant which originated in the 1950s as a cantina set built for the many westerns being filmed there (films like Jeopardy and The Cisco Kid). In more recent decades, while respected for its open-pit fire BBQ, the restaurant and venue has also become a celebrated live music hotspot where the likes of Sir Paul McCartney, Queens of the Stone Age and Arctic Monkeys have all played (often spontaneously choosing the venue to test out a new set). So do stop by: while you might be going for the ribs, you may just find U2 serenading you.
The restaurant sits next to the original Pioneertown film set, taking you right into an 1880-themed Main Street. Quietly sitting behind this is the 19-room Pioneertown Motel (built as a waypost for movie stars filming locally at the time). A unique boutique hotel, it’s rich in character and an ideal place to disconnect from the outside world and soak up the starriest of skies at night. The motel feels exactly as a motel should; warm and welcoming with friendly staff and better yet, no televisions!
During the day you can hike around Joshua Tree or pop into La Copine(do book) for a cool desert roadside spot (menu favourites include Beets & Burrata and Socarrat) or have a mooch around the Noah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum, an exhibit whose beauty lies in its decades of decay.
Joshua Tree. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisNoah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
En route to Palm Springs, you pass acres upon acres of wind farms but through the colossal turbines it’s hard not to miss the two giant dinosaurs of Cabazon. Something between a fast food amusement garden (they were, indeed, originally built by local restaurateur to attract more diners) and Jurassic Park on steroids (‘Dinny’ and ‘Mr Rex’ most famously featured in Pee-wee’s Big Adventure), these two monuments are an essential stop (albeit, just a 10-min one) while driving through.
Palm Springs. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
Pulling into Palm Springs, in soaring temperatures, feels somewhat like the designer town time has left standing: exquisite architecture nestled at the foot of the mountains with that unique desert modernist design. Better to visit in winter when the temperatures become more moderate but be sure to indulge in a dinner at Mister Parker’s (the gilded restaurant of the Parker Hotel) for exquisite cuisine and a flash of that personal service touch (your tabletop candle is made of beef butter which melts ready to be spread over your freshly made loaf).
Stay at Sparrows Lodge, a small and intimate spot where the accommodation’s surround a misted pool and loungers. The rooms are stylish and well-sized with vast metal dunk-tubs. It is also recognised for the menu in their Barn Kitchen, offering delights from home-baked banana bread for breakfast to 16oz Creekstone Ranch ribeye at diner. But do rise early and take yourself for a near-two-mile hike in Tahquitz Canyon. While the trail is steep and can be rocky, the waterfall that greets you at the pinnacle is entirely worth the effort. Before slipping out of town, make sure you stop at Mitchells vintage shop, which offers an expansive range of heritage pieces from Pucci to Ossie Clark. Mitchell services the shop himself so you are assured of the history and provenance (the store supplied rare fashion pieces to TV show Palm Royale most recently).
After a few days of desert sun, it’s likely time to head to the ocean spread of Laguna Beach. Pick your timing carefully: off-season the beaches are sweeping and empty, in high season you may have to search for your spot more carefully as tourists flock to the infamous OC coastline. In the early 1920s, it began to emerge as a noted artists’ colony and still boasts a bustling creative hub (including the Festival Of Arts and Pageant Of The Masters).
Laguna Beach. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisCasa Laguna. Jamie Kowal
About a mile from the milling centre lies Casa Laguna Hotel & Spa; a compact and quaint design-led spot. The bungalow is the most sought-after accommodation but all rooms feature the same decorative Spanish-colonial interiors (think palettes of royal blue and vivid bougainvillea). It sits only a short walk from two essential beaches but if you want to ‘stay in’, the perched pool which overlooks the ocean and the bay-facing outdoor spa are particular highlights (although the daily freshly made cookies laid out late afternoon take a comfortable bronze position).
