FilmArt is an ongoing column I write for TIFF's online publication, The Review.
A shark rising from the depths towards a nude swimmer; a giant (perhaps even 50-foot) woman attacking cars on a freeway; Rhett Butler clutching a bare-shouldered Scarlett O’Hara. Some of the most enduring images in film history never ran through a projector, but began life as elements of promotional campaigns, and — thanks to nostalgia, notoriety, or sometimes just pure ubiquity — became iconic in their own right. FilmArt looks at the advertising, posters, lobby cards and other ephemera that complement and enrich the filmgoing experience.
A two-part interview with the legendary director of Gremlins, The 'Burbs and Matinee. The die-hard cinephile looks back on the advertising for his films including the bait-and-switch campaign for Gremlins, convincing Roger Corman not to use the title Hollywood Hookers, and "the worst poster in history"
Throughout the 1950s — AKA the first time major studios were panicking about small screens at home cutting into their profits —exhibitors tried everything from 3-D to Smell-O-Vision to lure viewers away from their living rooms, but when it came to sales gimmicks, one man was King: William Castle.
Vasilis Marmatakis' movie posters are unlike anything else at the cinema (and might just be the best posters of the past decade)
“There are millions of people who have a Gatti in their house, and many do not even know it.” —Vanity Fair
It’s thanks to the vibrant designs and of Juan Gatti that many of us first discovered Almodóvar's films amid the chaos of crowded video-store shelves.
Roger Ebert once declared that Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin “[has] been so famous for so long that it is almost impossible to come to it with a fresh eye” — a claim with which many of the artists and designers charged with promoting the film over the past 90 years might beg to differ.