The beautiful Monica Bellucci, who was last week in Romania for two days to film the feature film “The Whistleblower” at the MediaPro Studios in Buftea, apparently shared some with her plateau colleagues one hot news – she’s three months pregnant.

A detached thread, Monica, aged 45 years, doesn’t usually lives with her husband in order to avoid routine. She speaks fluent Italian, English, French and Spanish and is very communicative, since she told her colleagues such a big news.

Monica Bellucci played one of the secondary roles in “The Whistleblowers”, directed by Larysa Kondracki.

Sanguepazzo è un film del 2008, diretto da Marco Tullio Giordana. Gli interpreti principali sono: Monica Bellucci, Luca Zingaretti e Alessio Boni

Leggi altre notizie su: | Marco Tullio Giordana | Luca Zingaretti | Monica Bellucci | Alessio Boni

From all outward appearances, Pippa Lee (ROBIN WRIGHT PENN) leads a charmed existence. She is the devoted wife of an accomplished publisher (ALAN ARKIN) thirty years her senior, the proud mother of two grown children, and a trusted friend and confidant to all who cross her path. But as Pippa dutifully follows her husband to a new life in a staidConnecticut retirement community, her idyllic world and the persona she has built over the course of her marriage will be put to the ultimate test.

In truth, looks are deceiving, and this picture-perfect woman has seen more than her fair share of turmoil in her youth. Embarking on a bittersweet journey of self-discovery, accompanied by a new, strange and soulful acquaintance (KEANU REEVES), Pippa must now confront both her volatile past and the hidden resentment of her seemingly perfect life in order to find her true sense of self.

By turns wry, humorous, and moving, THE PRIVATE LIVES OF PIPPA LEE presents the complex portrait of the many lives behind a single name.

Golden Globe nominee Robin Wright Penn and Academy Award® winner, Alan Arkin head an all-star cast that includes Blake Lively as the young Pippa Lee, Maria Bello as her mother, Suky Sarkissian, Keanu Reeves as Pippa’s inscrutable neighbor, Chris Nadeau, Monica Bellucci as the socialite Gigi Lee, triple Academy Award® nominee Julianne Moore as the freewheeling Kat, Academy Award® nominee and Golden Globe winner Winona Ryder as Pippa’s trusted friend, Sandra Dulles, Mike Binder as novelist Sam Shapiro and rising stars Zoe Kazan and Ryan as Grace and Ben Lee, Pippa’s young adult children.

THE PRIVATE LIVES OF PIPPA LEE is adapted from writer-director Rebecca Miller’s novel of the same name. It is produced by Lemore Syvan from Elevation Filmworks, and Dede Gardner and Jeremy Kleiner from Plan B Entertainment. Executive producers are Winchester Capital, Jean-Luc De Fanti, and The Salt Company partners, Cyril Mégret, Robert Bevan and Samantha Horley

Starring: Robin Wright Penn, Alan Arkin, Maria Bello, Monica Bellucci, Blake Lively, Julianne Moore, Keanu Reeves, Winona Ryder, Mike Binder
Director: Rebecca Miller
Screenwriter: Rebecca Miller
Studio: Screen Media

MOVIE TRAILER :

Wow, guys. Monica Bellucci and my fave photographer, Ellen Von Unwerth, are seriously giving the topless Claudia Schiffer Catwoman by Mario Testino of several days’ ago a real run for its money for the internet’s Best [Batman] Picture Ever contest.

Monica Bellucci, photographed in Catwoman mask and leather bodysuit by the stellar and magnificent Ellen Von Unwerth for “Bella Bellucci,” a feature in Vogue España, June 2006.

While Monica’s cleavage is always impressive and, of course, her face is basically the most beautiful on Earth, I’m still giving the advantage to the Mario-Claudia collaboration for toplessness. Better luck next time, Team Monica-EVU!

What big eyes you have

I stop off for two nights in Avignon en route for the Côte d’Azur. It’s a long journey from Annecy, made all the longer by the cancellation of my planned train and thus a hiccup in subsequent connection. I begin to suspect reverse culture shock following Japan. There’s a connection I’m told twice doesn’t exist, but as the train pulls out of the relevant station, I can see it announced on the board. A three and a half hour journey takes seven. Oh well, the scenery is pleasant enough from Annecy down into Grenoble. Mountains, oh how pretty, then shanty towns around the edge of underpasses, people living in sheds, crap estates, actual France, not the picture postcard.

Avignon itself seems built in two parts. There’s the old walled part of the city and then there’s what is beyond it. I don’t enter the beyond during those two days. I go to the Palais des Papes, wander up and around Rocher des Domes, go for lunch at Le Grand Café. I’m not sure this is the place that my friends in Haute-Savoie referred to, they suggested going for lunch in a place inside a modern art gallery. Is this it? Probably not.

My great pleasure upon sitting down is that I’m facing a large portrait photograph of Romane Bohringer. Now, Romane and myself have something of a history. Not an actual history, a quite imagined history. Romane first came to my attention in 1992  with Les Nuits Fauves, one of the first French films that had HIV/AIDS as a central theme. The subject matter was quite French, the chief protagonist (played by writer/director Cyril Collard who died of an AIDS-related condition in ‘93) was apparently torn between his gay and straight natures as well as his irrepressible desires. Not to mention his impending death. Basically, it meant for most of the film he shagged whomever he wanted and didn’t take any responsibility for how his actions might affect others, in particular the entirely passionate and smitten Romane.

It’s alright for some, I possibly thought, here I am in bleak loveless London, whereas in an imagined France a man can act like an utter bastard and have no problem finding women of such calibre. Years passed and Romane would pop up in other French films from time to time. Since these were blissful times before the internet saturated us with information, when facts about French actresses were dependent on magazine and newspaper articles (and you might well miss an issue and the relevant mention), I knew very little about her.

Romane’s star was possibly most ascendant in the UK around the time of L’appartement in ‘96, a film in which Vincent Cassel makes the idiotic mistake of choosing Monica Bellucci over Romane Bohringer. Oh, but Monica Bellucci, you say… I imagine a life with Monica would be very demanding. Aside from maintaining her in the custom to which she is accustomed, every single day of life would mark some slight decline in her appearance. Let’s face it, she looks great (a supermarket melon perfection) but her acting isn’t up to much. Whereas Romane seem to me to be much more of an artist, she worked with Peter Brook at a young age and, what I’m quite fond of, is that she has some mole on the side of her nose that has remained throughout her career, unlike the airbrushed lad’s mag perfection of Bellucci.

My idealised attachment with Romane was at its strongest around this time. I was living in the countryside in Japan and the local video shop had a surprisingly well-stocked back catalogue of French cinema. Rural isolation encouraged a quite wholesome and teenage fascination with Romane and eventually I wrote a short story on my return to London in which she played the role of a guardian angel, whilst the main story was about a resurrected Mithraic cult that was attempting to gain absolute power. I haven’t read it in ages, if you’re lucky, which might not be that much, it would probably read like Dan Brown reworking Iain Sinclair.

So, trying to get back to food here, as I sat down opposite the photo of Romane, I was reminded of all this. Romane and myself started with a simple olive tart and then treated outselves to an ox-cheek daube. It’s possibly a bit ambitious, I think, we’re (no, hang on, I am…) booked in for dinner in the hotel restaurant. But ox-cheek daube is one of the few French dishes I cook with any regularity and I’m keen to gauge my efforts against this local version. Well, the restaurant’s is good, but my mine is better. Phew. I don’t grudge the dish we’re eating though. It’s quite delicious and everything is swimming along with a 50cl carafe of local Côtes du Rhône.

Romane doesn’t say much. She looks great though. She’s been positioned next to another portrait of Catherine Deneuve. There’s a contrast. The restaurant is fairly quiet, some 70’s French hits play in the background, the waiting staff are fairly underemployed, there’s a relaxed laziness to the place, although I presume it would be quite busy in the summer months outside. Romane particularly appreciates dessert. I’m fond of women who eat food and she wolfs down the rest while my attention is distracted by an outburst of birdsong. I take my coffee out on the terrace.

I wander back towards the hotel, buy a winter cap, three books (the catalogue for the 1992 Fassbinder werkschau, an anthology of Bizarre – a review produced the Collège de ‘Pataphysique in the 50’s and 60’s – and the French translation of Yumeno Kyusaku’s classic Dogra Magra. Back at the hotel, I snooze off and wake up to a retrospective on tv of Marina Abramovic. I must be in France, I think, to be watching this at 4pm. I loll around, take another walk and pop into second-hand bookshop where I pick up two English books: one about Victorian women travellers and the other what appears to be a small selection of writings about Beau Brummel. I can read that over dinner I think…

Dinner is at La Vieille Fontaine where the chef is Bruno d’Angelis. I look for hotels when I’m in England, there’s an inclusive offer of dinner in the online package. Oh, why not, I think. I don’t often stay in fancy hotels, I don’t want more than a clean room, a bath and an internet connection. Bruno has his star. I am only realising now on searching that in fact this is the restaurant where Keith Floyd lunches (and then snoozes) in the recent Keith Allen documentary!

I’m feeling a bit jaded myself after lunch. Dinner should probably be a cheese sandwich and an early night. Instead, I’ve a four course seasonal mushroom tasting menu. Here’s what I ate:

Well, that’s no good, you say. I have to squint quite severely to read a word of that. It’s not a consciously bad photo. It is a photo I take as I’m standing waiting for a taxi to take me to the station the following morning. Like the other photos in this entry, it’s taken with a slightly aged mobile phone at all of 2.0 megapixels. But then, given my comments before, I wonder whether there isn’t a space left for “bad” photography when it comes to food, or perhaps no photography at all. But then, surely the writing needs to be up to par, make the food come alive. My notes of the evening don’t really help here. They are mostly concerned with:

1. Disappointment over Brummel book. It occurs to me upon reading that Brummel didn’t spend his time in Paris buying automobiles. The book in question, whilst enjoyable in its own ephemeral way, is a 1930’s guide to Paris for rich Americans with pertinent suggestions as to where they should spend there dollars on perfumes, shirts, hats and such. It’s not enough of a book to sustain me through dinner. The only available conversation in the otherwise empty restaurant is in Danish from the couple sat next to me. She dissects her lobster with the enthusiasms of a forensic gynaecologist.

2. The chairs. Chairs that are neither high-backed or armchairs. Narrow enough to grasp you around the waist, arms not quite high enough to rest your limbs upon, but quite capable of crushing your jacket. Brummel wouldn’t approve. You try leaning back, no, not much support there. They probably cost a bit. They prevent any form of relaxation. Or escape.

3. Darkness. The restaurant is excessively dark. There’s a chandelier that could be turned on but isn’t. How much of this darkness is because of Europe’s recent proscription on incandescent lightbulbs? A dimming of the day. A vision of our own decline. Time, gentlemen please…

4. The food is good, but for a mushroom themed menu, I’d like to see more mushrooms! At €90, there seems to be a need to tick certain ingredients to justify the price. In order: mushroom themselves, scallops, lobster, beef. I’d have preferred to eat rare and expensive mushrooms and forget about the rest. The scallops remind me just how badly they were cooked at Chez Didi, the tisane des carapaces with the lobster is rather astonishing, but I’m not sure it’s exactly food. The one thing that I don’t like is the jus au Merlot with the beef. It’s reduced beyond necessity, or more pertinently, beyond the point where it’s enjoyable to eat, rather than just admire as a potential oil painting medium.

When I get to my friends the next day, he asks about the meal. In conversational shorthand, I say that it was like an expensive call-girl. You could admire the technical prowess, the sheen of the stockings, the scent, the bag of tricks and moves designed to get the punter off just enough to get them keen to pay for extras. But, as I said, sometimes you probably really want Cheeky Mary down by the harbour. She has a humanity to her I couldn’t grasp in this meal. No kissing. Catherine Deneuve, possibly. Had I not eaten a large lunch earlier in the day, it probably would have sat better with me. The meal concluded, I walked upstairs to my room and lay down on the bed where I passed a fairly sleepless night, digesting, digesting…

It’s the sort of restaurant I can remember visiting with my father during childhood. We’d go on these family holidays to France that would often include a few meals at places that he’d chosen from a French Michelin guide. I don’t remember enjoying them then. The ghost of my father haunts me vaguely at such times and he certainly inhabits me when I look at myself in the mirror. Not so much the face, the stomach, whether larger or smaller. Just as I watched his girth expand and contract many times over the years.

At around 4am, I awake to an overly long psychedelic sequence in a Western called Blueberry (with Vincent Cassel, natch) and make a spectacular and profound evacuation. I feel much better after that.

When I get home to the UK, there’s an email from Lastminute.com. Here’s the picture:

What on earth is that? They look like wind-up false teeth. They march across the plate, snap at your fingers, extrude a beetroot maw. Turn up the saturation. Only £19. Where are we eating? It’s a michelin star place, lower case, you get food that looks, well, it looks very clever. It’s £19. Do you want to go or not? Well, what’s it all about? It’s fucking michelin star, what more do you need to know? That means it’s proper. I don’t know, I quite fancied the Turkish down the road. What is your problem? Thierry Henry doesn’t eat at the Turkish, Peaches Geldof doesn’t eat at the Turkish. They eat michelin star. Do they? Yes and it’s only £19. It’s also very pink. Come on, £19! What can you get at the Turkish for that? Well, a meal for two for a start. Or, you could have the mixed grill and a couple of beers. But I don’t see how anyone ever manages the mixed grill, it’s enough meat for a family of four. There’s a photo of Patsy out of EastEnders. She must have eaten there. And Martin Jol. They’re friendly in there, they even know our names now. That time we forgot the wallet, they let us come back and pay the next day. Still gave us baklava to take home. Do they do baklava at michelin star? They do petty fours, which are a bit like chocolates, except they’re not always. Not always like chocolates? Yes, they’re like dreams and aspirations spun from sugar and culinary talent that tell us that we have arrived. Where have we arrived? We have arrived in the world and are here and looking at people and people are looking at us and all is well with ourselves reflecting through and around other people. Blimey. And so on.

It has been way too long since we saw a hot man bein’ hot of the day around here. Vincent Cassel, take it away!

Brilliant oddball Vincent Cassel is married to a personal heroine, Monica Bellucci — ten years in August. Impressive! He is a director, actor, writer and musician. Generally he plays maniacs and bad guys (I love crazy).

He has said of his being typecast in tough guy parts, “It’s all right. I like playing baddies.” The first role in which I ever saw him was as Gilles de Rais in Luc Besson’s 1999 film The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, which for my Catholic, action-movie-loving, Milla-Jovovich-adoring money is one of the best freakin’ movies evah.

Some fun Vincent and Monica facts from the imdb:

Some of Vincent’s english-language credits from which you might recognize him include Elizabeth, Ocean’s Twelve, Ocean’s Thirteen, Eastern Promises, and the forthcoming Darren Aronofsky picture Black Swan, which will also star Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Winona Ryder, and Barbara Hershey (freaking awesome).

A musician among his other many talents, Vincent performed the song “Step Da Step Krugom” in Eastern Promises. He also appeared as the voice of Monsieur Hood and sang the gay, snappy little Merry Men number in Shrek — you know, the scene in the wood where Princess Fiona kicks their asses all Matrix style.

Final shot featuring bonus heat from one Mister Viggo Mortensen (of course) from the set of Eastern Promises:

DESCARGAR
preview : www.fondostilo.com

Just One Life To Live

From the juiced-box and the song during the credits: Lucinda Williams – I Lost It

[Just press 'Play']

[Click here for a guide to Booze Revooze and the rating system used]

Ramblings: The Lives Of Pippa Lee’s Privates (Porn Title)

Final Proof: 1½ Shots

You know how sometimes you drink with chicks and there’s this one babe who’s pretty enough and she starts talking about her life and makes you believe she’s had this wild existence because she believes it so much? So you buy her another Cosmopolitan (and that shoulda been your first sign) and she reveals all these deep, dark secrets and you feel a little tenderness at the beginning because it’s cute how she thinks these episodes from her life are so fascinating even if they’re more common than beer rings on paper coasters but after a while you start to tire of her going on and on about her ‘insane multiple lives’ when you’ve lived more most weekends. That’s kinda what The Private Lives of Pippa Lee is like.

You know me and how sensitive i am, right? i feel kind of bad about trashing this movie because the book and screenplay were written by the director, Rebecca Miller, which means it’s pro’lly autobiographical. Look, ‘Becca (can i call you ‘Becca?) i’m not knocking your life. i’m glad you’ve enjoyed so much success telling people about it but, babe, there’s only one ‘life’ here and there isn’t much living in that one.

Plus, i hate Keanu Reeves. Always have. He can’t act. He could fake it in Matrix because Neo is a character who has the personality of someone who doesn’t know how to act. But man, Keanu in a real movie? Makes you wish you had a case of whatever Kenneth Branagh was drinking when he tapped Kan’ya for Much Ado About Nothing. Anyway, K-boy drags this movie down in a big way and it wasn’t even that far up there to begin with.

i will raise a glass to Blake Lively, however, who has a richer role here than in Gossip Girl and doesn’t disappoint. Another drink to Alan Arkin who is like good whiskey: the older he gets, the better he is.

The other thing i liked was how much smoking there was in this movie. Pippa (Robin Wright Penn) and Young Pippa (Blake Lively) both smoke Marlboro Lights and there’s something about close-ups of a girl smoking that really flare my hot box. The only minor disappointment was that Blake Lively is obviously not a smoker and was just going through the motions. A real smoker can tell.

As for the rest of the movie: it’s slow, uneven and doesn’t end at the right time. That’s Life.

Buzz Kills (Watch Out for Spoilers)

Sex: 2½ Shots

i gotta give it something considering the sheer quantity of female glory that strolls through this thing…

Ironically, the only nude scene isn’t the hottest part of the movie. It’s by Christin Sawyer Davis who plays Shelly, Julianne Moore’s lesbian lover. She undresses before getting into a sexy photo shoot (think Blake Lively in a pony tail and frilly diaper pretending to be a baby in a playpen or wearing a French maid’s outfit with a leash). Here’s a scene with Shelly spanking Young Pippa (Blake Lively):

Julianne Moore isn’t in the film long but rocks as Kat, Pippa’s aunt’s lover. There is a nice girl/girl kiss between Kat (Moore) and Aunt Trish (Robin Weigert). The other nice part is that Kat never wears a bra and struts around the apartment in a tight knit thingy (ask a woman if you names for clothes). Kinda like this:

My other beautiful surprise in this film was seeing Winona Ryder again. Sure, she had a brief appearance in Star Trek (2009) but that was just a teaser to remind me of the days my cousin and i walked around singing: Na na nanana Na Na nanana Na Na nanana My Winona!

Screw it. You listen to the song and sing the above lyric.

[Press 'Play' and sing along]

Anyway, i was thrilled to see how truly beautiful she is, but even more, to see how excellent her performance was as Pippa’s friend, Sandra. She was truly the funniest and most fun thing about the movie. Here are some shots of our little girl growing up:

Coming back to Blake Lively… i won’t repeat how impressed i was by her performance as well, but i will say there was some Blake Lively Titty Blocking (when an actress is topless but the director hides her boobs through different miss-directing techniques). Still, you tend to forgive this when you remember her first scene was her looking incredible in denim cutoffs. The TB here was done while she was lying naked beside Alan Arkin (and if that didn’t give him a heart attack he’s good to go for another ten years) and she blocked her tit with her arm. While i’m on the subject of Blake, i loved the way her mouth curled around the ‘F’ word when she said, in close-up, “I’m a fµck up.” Maybe it’s just me, but women always look hot as hell when they say that word. That and “bitch”. The things a woman’s lips does when she says “bitch” are better than two Viagra and a shot of scotch. But enough about me, here’s Blake:

Leaving The Bar None

S'All Right, Babe, i Got Your Back

There’s another kinda sex scene with Keanu rubbing off Pippa (Robin Wright Penn) to a climax inside her jeans. She does a good job of faking it (hmmm, maybe that’s why she filed for divorce from Sean Penn last August…) and then cries afterwards. Hey, you’d cry too if you just had Kenau Reeves’ hands down your pants.

Speaking of Ke-no-no, another thing that bugs the crap out of me is how in movies they always have women walking around wearing pajamas with a bra on. Every guy knows women hate sleeping with a bra because it’s as uncomfortable as sleeping on the wet spot. But actresses are too sensitive about revealing a little jiggle action, so they always get right out of bed all bra’d up. Fake, annoying and a buzz kill. Robin Wright Penn had some of that going on here and i couldn’t let it slide without a little rant.

That said, up for a little Robin?

Is That An Outtie Or Are You Just Glad To See Me

Finally, there was a surprise appearance by Monica Bellucci as Herb Lee’s wife, Gigi Lee. Her role was short but she looked good filling it. Here’s what i mean:

At The Bar None

Drink: 2 Shots

A quick ‘rum through’ of the notes i scribbled during the movie:

• The movie starts with a red wine toast at dinner to an editor and his wife, Pippa Lee.
• A bottle of red as a present at a party.
• Vodka martinis at a party.
• Young Pippa does cartwheels on the beach and hits from a wine bottle (red).
• Champagne at the divorce meeting and a drink to ‘transformation’.

Picture From My Personal Stash

Rock & Roll: 0 Shots

There’s a song that young Pippa dances to in her room while on speed and i think it’s “Still To Be Painted” by Pitcher’s Pony but i can’t find the song or confirmation.

There’s a Dusty Springfield song (“I’ll Love You For A While”) but i can’t scrape that up either.

The song i posted above, Lucinda William’s “I Lost It”, rolls during the credits.

Boring Technical Crap

Written by: Rebecca Miller

Directed by: Rebecca Miller

Starring

Robin Wright Penn – Pippa Lee

Blake Lively – Young Pippa

Winona Ryder – Sandra Dulles

Julianne Moore – Kit

Monica Bellucci – Gigi Lee

Christin Sawyer Davis – Shelly

Alan Arkin – Herb Lee

Bottom Line

Don’t see it, not even to score ‘Chick Flick’ points because chances are she won’t like it either.

L’uomo che ama è un film del 2008diretto da Maria Sole Tognazzi (sua seconda opera, la prima fu “Passato Prossimo con Paola Cortellesi).

Leggi altre notizie su: | Maria Sole Tognazzi | Pierfrancesco Favino | Ksenia Rappoport | Monica Bellucci

Monica Bellucci – MB-001

20cm x 30cm : $20 (10 photos)
15cm x 21cm : $15 (10 photos)
13cm x 18cm : $10 (10 photos)

This Peter likes certain things a lot, this is one of those things and this is where it came to my attention.

Et oui, je vous sens trépigner d’impatience. Il faut dire qu’il n’y a pas eu de rubrique “news du côté des news” la semaine dernière, et pour cause, pas de nouveautés dans les malles jeudi dernier (ce qui est assez rare).

Mais nous voilà de retour et en pleine forme.

Pour commencer, trois nouveautés que j’ai eu l’occasion de voir lors du Bifff 2009 :

Jeux de pouvoir / State of play (2009) de Kevin McDonald (le réalisateur du Dernier roi d’Ecosse). Le titre anglais vous sera déjà sans doute plus familier: State of play est en effet une mini série télévisée britannique (6 épisodes) datant de 2003. En voici son remake américain. Ayant vu et la série, et ce remake, j’ai personnellement préféré la série et son style anglais plus précis, plus fin surtout. Cette adaptation typiquement made in U.S. ravira cependant les amateurs de thrillers politiques.

The Chaser (2009) de Hong-Jin Na : un thriller haletant et efficace ! The Chaser est un magnifique film qui impressionne sur bien des plans. La complexité scénaristique est menée de main de maître tout au long de l’histoire, sans aucun temps mort et avec beaucoup de fluidité, Hong-Jin Na arrive ainsi à créer une ambiance pesante et haletante de bout en bout. Quelques touches humoristiques (la police coréenne n’est en rien épargnée) viennent ça et là agrémenter l’ensemble. Les scènes de bagarre sont suffisamment violentes que pour être crédibles. Un excellent polar noir qui a déjà été approché par des producteurs américains pour un remake version US (les rumeurs vont bon train au sujet de Leonardo Di Caprio). Quand on sait que c’est une première réalisation pour ce coréen d’à peine 35 ans, on ne peut qu’attendre ses prochains films avec impatience.

Star Trek Zero (2009) de J.J. Abrams : Nous voici donc au commencement, lorsque Capitaine Kirk est encore dans le ventre de sa maman et que papa Kirk se sacrifie pour sauver ses congénères, que Spock use ses culottes de Vulcain sur le banc de l’école et que Dr McCoy a le mal de l’air…. A l’aide d’effets spéciaux impeccables (J. J. Abrams connaît la chanson puisqu’il est entre autres producteur de Cloverfield) et d’un scénario en béton, ce Star Trek 0 (ou Star Trek 11, c’est comme vous voulez) nous offre un très beau moment à la fois de divertissement et de science-fiction (ça fait du bien, c’est tellement rare !). J.J. Abrams a réussi ce que George Lucas a raté en sortant les épisodes 1 à 3 de Star Wars. Comme quoi, quand on veut, on peut !

Sinon, nous avons en plus dans nos bacs magiques :

Mammoth, la dernière réalisation de Lukas Moodysson. Un film indépendant pour lequel il est difficile d’obtenir des informations. N’empêche, la présence au générique du réalisateur de Fucking Amal et du superbe Lilya-4-ever, ou de l’acteur Gael Garcia Bernal semble déjà présager beaucoup. A essayer.

Le Liseur / The Reader (2008) de Stephen Daldry est l’adaptation d’un bestseller de Bernard Schlink, une histoire d’amour entre une femme de 30 ans et un jeune homme de 15. Le film repose entre autres sur la prestation de Kate Winslet, une fois de plus mémorable. Le jeune homme découvrira des années plus tard que cette femme avait travaillé comme gardienne dans un camp nazi. J’ai beaucoup apprécié ce film, qui m’a paru néanmoins un peu trop long.

Enfin, Ne te retourne pas (2009) de Marina De Van, film présenté cette année au Festival de Cannes et qui voit s’affronter Sophie Marceau et Monica Bellucci dans un questionnement identitaire. Un film psychologique, cela va s’en dire.

Qu’on se le dise !

Brigitte Segers

Quem não conhece Monica Bellucci? Nem que seja através da trilogia de Matrix, a sua beleza não passa despercebida em parte alguma. Nascida em em 1964 na Itália mais especificamente em Cittá di Castello, mede 1,70m e possui uma carreira significativa no mundo de Hollywood aparecendo em filmes como Matrix ou Tears of the Sun.

Considerada a mulher mais sexy do mundo em 2004 (contava já com 40 aninhos de idade), pela revista masculina Maxim’s fiquem aqui com um pack de wallpapers para vosso deleite.

Clique no icone acima para iniciar o download

(Tamanho: 4,71MB)

Monica Bellucci – senza slip

(via dunecan)

Drīzumā: Pipas Lī privātā dzīve (The Private Lives of Pippa Lee) Kinoteātros 20.11.2009.

„Pipas Lī privātā dzīve” ir amerikāņu rakstnieces un režisores Rebekas Milleres uzņemtā drāma. Scenārijs balstīts uz pašas režisores sarakstītas grāmatas „Pipas Lī privātā dzīve” motīviem. Rebeka Millere ne reizi vien plūkusi laurus augstas raudzes kinofestivālos, ieguvusi prestižo Sandensas kinofestivāla balvu – 1995. un 2002. gadā.

Pirmizrādi filma piedzīvoja jau šā gada 9. februārī Berlīnes kinofestivālā, kā arī pēc tam tika izrādīta Sidnejas, Edinburgas un Toronto kino festivālos. Drīzumā nonāks arī pie mums-Latvijas kinoteātros.

Filmas producents ir Breds Pits, kurš kopš 2007. gada aktīvi ķēries arī pie producenta darba un nu jau viņa producenta kontā ir kāds ducis filmu.

Drāma stāsta par Pippu Lī – uzticīgu sievu, lielisku māti, kas kā šķiet dzīvo neapskaužamu dzīvi. Bet kad viņa pienākuma vadīta seko savam vīram, lai sāktu dzīvi mazpilsētā, viss mainās… pagātne nekur neizgaist. Varbūt viņa ir dzīvojusi daudzas citu dzīves, izņemot savējo…

Režisors: Rebecca Miller

Lomās: Robin Wright Penn, Alan Arkin, Keanu Reeves, Julianne Moore, Monica Bellucci, Winona Ryder

Monica Bellucci

The beautiful actress Monica Bellucci has been “rented” by the daughter of Uzbekistan dictator, Islam Karimov for the sum of 190,000 euros. The actress played the role of “guest-star” for four hours in a closed circuit soiree organized by the Karimov family in Paris to promote their foundation, “Uzbekistan 2010″.

The event occurred on April 8th, but it was only now the information was provided by an anonymous source to “Bakchich” weekly.

The actress signed a very strict contract, by which she could not make public the fact that she attended in the event, nor the purpose of her presence or the amount of money received for her services.

Also, at the event had to be present the beautiful Isabelle Adjani, who declined the invitation.

Monica Bellucci topless
Sophie Marceau in a see-through bra

Italy’s latest Oscar submission is Baaria, a film by acclaimed director Giuseppe Tornatore (of Cinema Paradiso fame). It is a dramedy that examines Tornatore’s own hometown of Bagheria in Sicily by following a couple (played by Francesco Scianna and Margareth Made) from the 1920s until the present day. The film also stars Raoul Bova and Monica Bellucci (two names that should be more familiar to American audiences) and includes Tornatore’s trademark blend of wit, nostalgia, and sentimentality. In addition to being chosen as the national submission to next year’s Academy Awards, the film opened the 66th Venice Film Festival, where also won the Pasinetti Award and was nominated for the Golden Lion (the highest honor the festival bestows).

Here’s the full trailer, which actually shows a real cow being killed. It’s a split-second image, but it has apparently caused quite a stir in Italy over the unethical treatment of animals. Tornatore has made a statement saying that what was filmed was just an typical occurrence at the slaughterhouse in which they were shooting.

Fantástica escena de Monica Bellucci en la peli Manual de Amor 2.