Tales of cinematic catastrophes often make for more engaging entertainment than the movies they're inspired by. For instance, what the fuck is John Carter? Would Michael Cimino have ever recaptured his The Deer Hunter form if he'd never directed Heaven's Gate? Is Dune actually a real movie, or just a dream that David Lynch implanted in our collective consciousness to sabotage Kyle MacLachlan's career? These stories are all sweeping epics in their own right, fulfilling all the pretentions harbored by their moving picture progenitors. If the story of how producers connived to make Movie 43, the universally loathed skid mark on the underpants of some of Hollywood's brightest current stars, proves any less interesting, it's probably because everyone associated with seems either deeply ashamed or pathologically cynical.
Jezebel · Doug Barry
This is what January Jones looked like when she was nine. First things first — where is that shirt sold and how much will it…
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