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Bogdanovich spent a minute pushing himself but came back with a series of amusing setbacks. “Illegally Yours,” “Texasville,” “Noises Off,” and “The Thing Called Love” are all lacking in performance, but they’re all good. “Texasville” is especially beautiful, best looking at a BETA copy of the director’s cut passed on the gray market. As all his friends returned to nostalgia, Bogdanovich returned with his biggest hit, but no one was interested.
He switched to television and books afterwards, directing “To Sir, With Love 2” with Sidney Poitier for CBS and an episode of “The Wonderful World of Disney” and so on. He began publishing and releasing his books and old interviews and monographs, creating an impressive collection of valuable ancient Hollywood records. He started appearing as an interview topic in hundreds of documentaries about the history of filmmaking and started to act even more. Most famously he took on the role of Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco) therapist Elliot Kupferberg in “The Sopranos,” who relies heavily on the ascot wearing an esthete image he has developed throughout his life.
He was assisted by his older statesmen years as directors as well Noah Baumbach, Wes Anderson, Quentin Tarantino and Sofia Coppola everyone started citing him as an influence. Bogdanovich’s image in a chair, meaningfully waxing the legends on stage and screen, is perhaps a lasting one, more so than the tyrannical horse rider or the troubled actor.
In 2001, she divorced Louise Stratten (although they remain close) and directs his penultimate film for theaters, the more compelling Art Deco murder mystery “The Cat’s Meow,” about a real -life murder incident in yacht of William Randolph Heart (his last bit of revenge on the man he confronted. Welles allegedly based his antihero on “Citizen Kane”). He will be directing again for the big screen (he goes on to make documentaries, one of the Tom Petty, one of Buster Keaton, etc.), 2014’s polarizing “She’s Funny That Way,” produced by Baumbach and Anderson, and based on her own experiences.
Bogdanovich calls himself a young man in the business of an old man, but he is not a child. He was stuck in the ’30s, imagining himself next to studio hands like Ford, Hawks, and Dwan, to the right they call action. His direction completely divides the difference between where American dramatic films go and where they are. No one can do what Bogdanovich did before he did it, and no one can do it again.
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