Remember Paul Schrader? That guy who brought you “American Gigolo” and the insanely popular “Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist”? Well, now that he’s realized no one wants to see his latest effort, “The Canyons,” starring Lindsay Lohan (see: drug addict) and James Deen (see: porn star), he’s started the obligatory press tour, telling behind-the-scenes drama about Lindsay
snorting cocaine off the backs of baby elephants while wearing a rain poncho being Lindsay.
“Tardiness, unpredictability, tantrums, absences, neediness, psychodrama—yes, all that, but something more,” Schrader told Film Comment magazine. “That thing that keeps you watching someone on screen, that thing you can’t take your eyes off of, that magic, that mystery.”
Alright, Paul. I’m no expert, but I believe the word you are desperately searching for here is “tits.” There’s nothing mysterious about them (except maybe why we don’t have more public monuments dedicated to the subject).
But then he raised the pretentious shittiness to a whole new level, directly comparing Lohan to Marilyn Monroe.
“Monroe and Lohan exist in the space between actors and celebrities, people whose professional and personal performances are more or less indistinguishable.”
Clearly he needs to go back and re-watch “The Parent Trap.” Not to mention the fact that Marilyn Monroe wasn’t constantly playing whiny bitches or one-legged strippers.
“Entertainers understand the distinction. To be successful, a performer controls the balance between the professional and personal, that is, he or she makes it seem like the professional is personal,” he continued. “It is the lack of this control that gives performers like Monroe and Lohan (and others) their unique attraction…We call them ‘troubled,’ ‘tormented,’ ‘train wrecks’—but we can’t turn away.”
So, basically, Paul Schrader’s predicting Lindsay’s unfortunate demise in a car filled with percocets, Marlboro Reds and a stack of unopened letters from Michael Lohan. That’s about the first reasonable thing he said in this interview. But he kept going, saying that Lindsay’s actually Monroe 2.0 – stronger, faster and tipsier.
“LL lives in a world of instant celebrity gratification Monroe could have only dreamed of,” he maintains. “Paid for public appearances, paid to wear clothes, paid to pose, paid for gossip tips, paid for tweets. These rewards are available without the pretense of responsibility. On the other hand, there’s no system to protect today’s celebrities from the media or the courts or themselves.”
It seems he forgot to add “cancelled from public appearances,” “fired by clothing designers” and “completely ignored on Twitter,” where she posts stupid shit like this:
Only to be retweeted 700+ times by a bunch of imbeciles who make you reconsider your stance on eugenics.
Then Schrader proceeds to extoll the virtues of working with her, as if he’s a better person now and not just grasping at career straws, saying, “From a selfish point of view, from a director’s point of view, that is, from my point of view, it was a treat to work with Lindsay.”
“All the drama, the mishegas, all the stress—that means little. A director can shoot around misbehavior. He can’t shoot around lack of charisma. I just wish it was easier for Lindsay.”
(It’s one thing when the director of a film calls a performer crazy. It’s an entirely different thing when he starts doing it in yiddish, because you know he’s not fucking around.)
“The Canyons” premiers July 29th at the Film Society of Lincoln Center, which is a Monday – because people will indubitably feel the same way about the film as they do about the start of a workweek.
Maybe we should just start saying, “Looks like somebody’s got a case of the Canyons.”