Hugh Jackman, Samuel L. Jackson and David and Victoria Beckham were among the celebrities who witnessed tennis champ Novak Djokovic defeat Roger Federer to win Britain's Wimbledon Men's title on Sunday (06Jul14). Prince William and his wife Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, Thor star Chris Hemsworth, Orlando Bloom, Kate Beckinsale and director Guy Ritchie were also in the stands at Centre Court as the Serbian sportsman emerged victorious after an epic five-set match, narrowly beating Federer 6-7, 6-4, 7-6, 5-7, 6-4 to claim his second Wimbledon trophy.
Jackman shared a Twitter.com photo of himself and his wife Deborra-Lee Furness at the London venue and later congratulated Djokovic on his seventh Grand Slam title, writing, "One of the greatest matches of all time @Wimbledon. Well done @rogerfederer. Superb win and huge congratulations @DjokerNole."
He also uploaded a photo of Djokovic hugging his mentor, former tennis icon Boris Becker, after the match and added, "Epic moment for djokernole, Becker and their entire team. What a day @Wimbledon. One I will never forget."
Other stars watching the game on TV also shared their thoughts online, with British comedian Stephen Fry writing, "How magnificently graceful both players were in defeat and victory. Hurrah for that", and actor John Leguizamo tweeting, "Sorry #federer u (sic) gave it your all my friend! Great game!"
Meanwhile, One Direction singer Liam Payne added, "Congratulations @DjokerNole heard it was a great game can't wait to watch it back have a drunk (drink) on me".
Actresses Kate Walsh and Brooklyn Decker, singer Eliza Doolittle and Bridesmaids star Chris O'Dowd were also among the celebrities tweeting about the championship finals on Sunday.
The long-awaited remake of My Fair Lady has been shelved, according to Emma Thompson. The British actress wrote the screenplay for a reboot of the 1964 musical which starred Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle, but the project was hit with numerous delays.
Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan were both linked to the lead role, but rumoured director Danny Boyle reportedly dropped out and production never got off the ground.
Thompson rewrote the script a number of times, but now admits the movie may never make it to the big screen, telling Britain's Daily Mail newspaper, "I did a new version of My Fair Lady, which they're not making."
A source adds to the publication, "They ended up with a director, John Madden, but they couldn't find the right Eliza Doolittle, and there were also complex rights issues at play."
Universal Pictures via Everett Collection
Endless Love has awakened something in me. Not a long dormant passion for an introverted high school classmate, or a sudden desire to break into the zoo after dark. A question about movies — more accurately, about movie criticism. The same question you would ask yourself if you fell drowsy in the middle of Citizen Kane, or welled up during the emotional climax of Just Friends. The question I ask myself now, as I recount the 103 straight minutes of asphyxiating laughter that I endured during a screening of Shana Feste’s would-be romantic drama: What makes a good movie?
We assign deference to some films, disgust to others — a lucky few of us make a living this way. But what, precisely, are we reviewing? A film’s mission or its execution? The product onscreen or the experience of watching it? All factors come into play when considering whether or not a movie “works.” But on rare occasions you’ll get a film that offers no common ground in its meeting of these standards. You’ll get Endless Love, which strives for dramatic sincerity, winds up with underwritten idiocy, and provokes in its viewers an unrestrained, absurdist revelry — the kind of joy you’d otherwise be forced to seek in a third viewing of The Lego Movie. Laughter at the ill-conceived antics and befuddling dialectical patterns of our central teen couple — a Mars native Gabrielle Wilde and her gaping mouthed beau Alex Pettyfer. Elated bemusement at the younger generation’s propensity for chaotic disrobing and didactically organized dance parties. Unprecedented ecstasy at the Mafia movie intimidation tactics of an overprotective dad (Bruce Greenwood) and the brain-dead disregard of a supportive one (Robert Patrick). As a comedy, Endless Love is unstoppable.
I can only hypothesize that it was not Feste’s intention to roll us in the aisles. I have no cold proof that her resolution in paving every nook in her Georgia-set remake with another farcical stone — Wilde’s instantaneous evolution from wordless ingénue to sexually aggressive spirit walker, Patrick’s loving caution-to-the-wind attitude regarding any situation that has to do with a girl, Rhys Wakefield’s “black sheep” character forming an odd amalgamation of Pauly Shore and Charlie St. Cloud — was not one of Wolf of Wall Street-like satire, or reappropriation in the vein of Spring Breakers. Here are two movies that earned scorn from viewers who read them literally, and in turn vehement defense from those who peered through the exaltation of cocaine and firearms into the filmmakers’ ironic intentions.
Universal Pictures via Everett Collection
To the latter community, one to which I subscribe, I ask: if we’re readily willing to dive deeper for Martin Scorsese and Harmony Korine, shouldn’t we grant Feste this benefit? If we’d defend the authenticity of the splendor we recognized in their movies, why am I inclined to write off the very same when present in this year’s Valentine’s Day cannonball? Why do I eagerly laud the merit in Leonardo DiCaprio directing Quaalude-charged tribal chants and relinquishing subhuman treatment upon anyone short a Y-chromosome, while instinctively shafting the invaluable merriment in Pettyfer’s goofily deliberate declaration that he likes to read into the category of happy accident?
But an even more precise question (one I was challenged to entertain by a friend and film critic far wiser than I am), and this time to the former community: does it matter? Did it matter to all those offended by gunplay and intrusive nudity that Korine set out to demonize youth culture and its omnipresent hedonism? Did considering his intentions make the endgame any less a visceral nightmare? If not, does it matter if Feste poured her soul into the machination of a timeless love story, only to produce a riotous cinematic episode that treads genre parody as expertly as anything from the golden age of the Zucker brothers? Does it matter that she didn’t intend for Wilde and Pettyfer’s sex scene to come off as super-hoke, for every mention of cancer to feel like soap opera send-up, or for Robert Patrick’s vindication of his son’s passion for menagerie trespassing to elicit the biggest laugh of a movie yet in 2014?
So long as I consider the power of cinema, I’ll never be sure if it matters. I’ll never be sure of the answers to any of these questions. But no matter where I find myself standing on this issue down the line, I had far too much fun at Endless Love — and entertained far too many questions on the nature of cinema and the way we react to it — to call it a movie that people shouldn’t see.
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Film fans will have the chance to bid for movie memorabilia including a suit worn by John Travolta and a velvet jacket donned by Daniel Craig in an auction at the British Film Institute's inaugural fundraising gala. The event will raise money to preserve and digitalize the BFI National Archive and will feature live music from Eliza Doolittle as well as specially commissioned filmed content from Idris Elba, Ralph Fiennes, Liam Neeson, Vanessa Redgrave and Martin Scorsese.
Attendees at the event, which takes place in London on 08 October (13), will be able to bid on lots including a replica Formula 1 car from motor racing movie Rush, Bond star Craig's velvet jacket he wore in U.K. TV show Our Friends in the North, Travolta's suit from Face/Off, and signed stills from Sam Taylor-Wood's I Love You More.