Whit Stillman not only lives, he writes in the Guardain about what the heck he’s been working on all this time. Some adaptation that didn’t work out, a script about Jamaican gospel churches…
As I’ve gone from identifying with the protagonists of Metropolitan to the aging yuppie at the bar at JG Melon’s in Metropolitan, I have to say, I’m a little put off by Mr. Stillman’s apparently laconic–or wary, maybe–approach to filmmaking.
But that’s probably because I seem to be doing the same thing, bouncing back and forth in stolen moments between pipe dream projects and adaptations. I just haven’t got three features under my belt.
Confessions of a serial drifter [guardian via greencine]