A Quote by Rudolf Buitendach
We took a fair bit of liberty with the story, but the basic premise of the film ["Selling Isobel" ] - a girl is kidnapped on the streets of a city and held captive for three days and two nights while various men show up and exploit her - is the exact truth.
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It's my story ["Selling Isobel"].I chose to write a screenplay about it because I think film is the quickest medium to get a story out, rather than writing a book.
[The Raindance film festival] is literally the first time we've ever screened the movie ["Selling Isobel"] to anyone, and people are a little bit traumatised by it.
Even when I get on airplanes, very often, as I walk down the aisle, I notice a lot of people staring or whispering. I recognize the fact that yes, to a lot of people, I will always be that 14-year-old girl who was kidnapped and who was held captive.
According to the three missed calls from her mother—who thought Madison had been kidnapped in the big, bad city and was now being held for an ungodly sum of money—the four text messages from her brother wondering if she knew how to navigate the beltway—because apparently little sisters couldn’t drive—and the voice mail from her father warning there was a problem with the reservations, she was late for brunch.
After the last screening [of "Selling Isobel" ] an 18-year-old girl came up to me and said, "Oh my God, I'm so naïve." I said, "No, you're not, you're just young." And she's so grateful for having seen it, because she's an actress and from now on she's going to take a friend with her to auditions and let her mom know exactly where she's going. That's a job done right there.
No days such honored days as these! While yet
Fair Aphrodite reigned, men seeking wide
For some fair thing which should forever bide
On earth, her beauteous memory to set
In fitting frame that no age could forget,
Her name in lovely April's name did hide,
And leave it there, eternally allied
To all the fairest flowers Spring did beget.
It was a tough film ["Selling Isobel"] to make anyway, because we had limited resources.
We reached a compromise [in film "Selling Isobel" ] - arty on the one hand, raw and crazy on the other.
In the 84 days after Beijing I had, on average, three things a day and one day off. I didn't sleep in the same bed for more than two nights in a row. It sounds a bit pathetic but it was exhausting - it was like really intensive training with no rest days.
Captive Greece took captive her savage conqueror.
The first two, three, four weeks are wasted. I just show up in front of the computer. Show up, show up, show up, and after a while the muse shows up, too. If she doesn't show up invited, eventually she just shows up.
Now then, what do we know? One, that Professor Fassbinder and his daughter have been kidnapped. Two, that someone has kidnapped them. Three, that my hand is on fire.
Oxford, in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke as they had done in Newman's day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days - such as that day - when the chestnut was in flower and the bells rang out high and clear over her gables and cupolas, exhaled the soft airs of centuries of youth. It was this cloistral hush which gave our laughter its resonance, and carried it still, joyously, over the intervening clamour.
I had actually hurt my neck, and because I went a while without getting it taken care of - it was pushing up against the back of my heart - and because I have heart issues, they thought it was this whole big deal. So I spent a good three days in the hospital, two nights in the ICU.
As an actor, I give 60 days to act in a film, but the writer takes nearly two to three years to create a story.
He picked up the wrench and broke the guy’s wrist with it, one, and then the other wrist, two, and turned back and did the same to the guy who had held the hammer, three, four. The two men were somebody’s weapons, consciously deployed, and no soldier left an enemy’s abandoned ordnance on the field in working order. The doctor’s wife was watching from the cabin door, all kinds of terror in her face. "What?" Reacher asked her.
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