First Charlie Chaplin Strip in 1916 by E. C. Segar
The story goes that Segar's older brother who lived and worked in Chicago got Elzie an audience with Yellow Kid and Buster Brown's creator Richard F. Outcault. Outcault whose advertising agency was located at 334 Dearborn Street in Chicago introduced the novice cartoonist to someone at James Keeley's Chicago Heraldwhich led to the budding artist being hired to produce the Charlie Chaplin Comic Capers strip. His first daily was published on February 28, 1916. The strip ran across the bottom of the paper's second section -- spanning the entire width -- making it quite a bit larger than most of the incredible shrinking Sunday comic strips in today's puny color comic sections.
In-law in Oz-Charlie Chaplin In The Army (1917)
Keeley also published five platinum age reprint books featuring the strip: Charlie Chaplin's Comic Capers, In the Movies, Up in the Air, In the Army and Funny Stunts. The most common editions of the books are 20 pages including covers, but there were some alternate editions that had more pages. These unusual editions must have had very small print runs because they're much harder to find.
How many know of Anthony Hopkins' passion for painting, composing, drawing, artwork and poetry? Actor, director, screenwriter, composer and now painting is what keeps him busy.
Here is a video of him working posted on his social media page. Below are a few samples of his unique works.
This
1966 interview gives a window into the mind of Kubrick in the director's own
words.
Stanley Kubrick, the director of such beloved films as Dr. Strangelove, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Shining, a man whose name remains, more than fifteen years after his death, almost a byword for the cinematic auteur, got into filmmaking because of a misunderstanding. While working as a photojournalist in his early twenties, he befriended an even younger fellow named Alex Singer, who would go on to become a well-known director of film and television himself, but back then he held a lowly position in the office of The March of Time newsreels. Singer happened to mention that each newsreel cost the company something like $40,000 to produce, which got Kubrick researching the price of film and camera rentals, then thinking: couldn’t I make a documentary of my own for less?
Indeed; he and Singer put together $1,500 and collaborated on the boxing short-subject Day of the Fight, which played in theaters in 1951. But it didn’t turn a profit, since no distribution company offered the $40,000 he expected — nor had they ever offered The March of Time, whose newsreel business went under before long, enough to cover their own exorbitant costs. So Kubrick didn’t make money on his first film, but he did make a career, going on to do two more documentaries, then the low-budget features Fear and Desire, Killer’s Kiss, and TheKilling. Then came the critically acclaimed Paths of Glory starring Kirk Douglas, which eventually brought about an offer to Kubrick from the iconic actor to take the directorial reins on Spartacus. Next came Lolita, Dr. Strangelove, 2001, and the rest is cinema history.
Of course, Kubrick didn’t know the full extent of the cinema history he would make back in 1966, on the set of 2001, when he sat down with physicist-writer Jeremy Bernstein, doing research for a New Yorker profile. The filmmaker brought out one of his tape recorders (devices he adopted early and used to write scripts) and recorded 77 minutes of his and Bernstein’s conversations, almost a half hour of which Jim Casey uses as the narration of the short documentary Stanley Kubrick: The Lost Tapes. Only recently rediscovered, these recordings feature Kubrick’s first-hand stories of growing up indifferent to all things academic and literary, honing his “general problem-solving method” as a photographer, getting into movies as a result of the aforementioned misconception, and building the career that film fans and scholars scrutinize to this day.
Andrei Tarkovsky, the genius of modern Russian cinema-hailed by Ingmar Bergman as "the most important director of our time"-died an exile in Paris in December 1986.
In Sculpting in Time, he has left his artistic testament, a remarkable revelation of both his life and work. Since Ivan's Childhood won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival in 1962, the visionary quality and totally original and haunting imagery of Tarkovsky's films have captivated serious movie audiences all over the world, who see in his work a continuation of the great literary traditions of nineteenth-century Russia. Many critics have tried to interpret his intensely personal vision, but he himself always remained inaccessible. In Sculpting in Time, Tarkovsky sets down his thoughts and his memories, revealing for the first time the original inspirations for his extraordinary films-Ivan's Childhood, Andrei Rublyov, Solaris, The Mirror, Stalker, Nostalgia, and The Sacrifice. He discusses their history and his methods of work, he explores the many problems of visual creativity, and he sets forth the deeply autobiographical content of part of his oeuvre-most fascinatingly in The Mirror and Nostalgia. The closing chapter on The Sacrifice, dictated in the last weeks of Tarkovsky's life, makes the book essential reading for those who already know or who are just discovering his magnificent work.
