Lobo
The Architect
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2002
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Love the trailer, looks amazing!
Yeah, I forgot to say for my countrydecember 17th is the release date. whether or not it's a wide release...i guess we'll find out in a month
hehe. ah yes, didn't even check your location =D
well, i'm sure a release date will be coming soon =)
I just noticed the Rourke is in Man on Fire. I watched it last night, but I can't place him. Any of y'all have any idea where he is in that movie?
Can someone make me an avatar (100 x 100) of Rourke slamming Necro through the table?
That trailer looks actually quite good. I might check it out when it arrives in the arthouse cinema thingee in my hometown.
Rourke must be the most fascinatingly ugly man I have ever seen. Yes Hunter, that man has grizzle galore.
really hes face is f... upThat trailer looks actually quite good. I might check it out when it arrives in the arthouse cinema thingee in my hometown.
Rourke must be the most fascinatingly ugly man I have ever seen. Yes Hunter, that man has grizzle galore. With a leading man looking like him, who needs those clean-cut pretty boys? Rourke's face alone is a story itself.
Really, whatever happened to him?
He looked like THIS once!
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His story...Really, whatever happened to him?
He looked like THIS once!
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Rourke is 52. His face is a relief map of scars. Despite rumors that plastic surgery is partly responsible for his altered features, Rourke denies that he's ever had work done. ''Somebody said to me the other day, 'You don't look like you used to.''' He laughs. ''But who does? I mean, when I was boxing I had six nose operations, I had cartilage taken from behind my ear, I had short-term memory loss, I've got an equilibrium problem, I don't have as many teeth in my head as I used to.''
And when all that didn't kill his leading-man prospects, he went one step further, taking a break from acting to become a professional boxer. It was a bizarre decision, one that would eventually lay waste to his once-handsome face. Four years later, when he retired from the ring because he'd been so battered that his health was in danger, Rourke returned to making movies. But he rarely seemed invested. He'd take crappy parts just for the money money that he'd turn around and blow on $5 million houses, a fleet of custom-made motorcycles, and an entourage of hair-trigger bodyguards and yes-men who would just as often get him into trouble as keep it away. By the time he walked off the set of 2001's straight-to-video Luck of the Draw because the producers wouldn't let his pet Chihuahua appear with him in a scene, it was official: Hollywood was done with Mickey Rourke.
Rourke wanted to be known for his acting, period. When he got the chance to share the screen with De Niro in 1987's Angel Heart, Rourke psyched himself up, training like a contender getting ready to enter the ring with the best. Director Alan Parker says that in his climactic confrontation with De Niro, Rourke inexplicably clutched an ice cube in his fist the whole time. ''It was electric to watch,'' says Parker. When the director yelled ''Cut!'' there was a puddle next to where Rourke was standing. He looked like he'd just gone 12 rounds. ''The best thing about acting was the competition,'' says Rourke. On the wall of his apartment, there's a photo of him with De Niro on the set. Rourke's beaming like a kid.
But when that kind of challenge wasn't there, Rourke admits he was just as likely to act up as act. He thought his talent was enough, diplomacy be damned. In 1987, Barbet Schroeder directed Rourke in Barfly, in which he played a character based on wino poet Charles Bukowski. It's a harrowing performance, skid-row Shakespeare. Two decades later, Schroeder has nothing but praise for Rourke's talent: ''He was magical, the greatest of his generation.'' But he also recalls Rourke as being self-destructive and petty, citing a follow-up project that he worked on with the actor for two years before Rourke dropped out without explanation. ''I remember I put a note on his front door saying that I would never speak to him again,'' says Schroeder, ''and I haven't.''