The beleaguered theme park strikes back at its critics with a series of videos—but given their attendance, did they need to?
The two multi-billion dollar corporations have both spent a fortune in the quest to declare themselves the Marco Polo of ultra-fast Internet in Austin, but the company that planted the flag is San Marcos-based Grande Communications.
Texas at the Oscars.
The struggling Plano-based department store chain was trying to advertise mittens.
The Stephen F. Austin grad and Austin native landed Heisenberg himself for the lead role in his 13-minute amateur short.
Not having to deal with Quentin Tarantino's on-screen presence is a more-than-fair trade off for seeing someone other than George Clooney as Seth Gecko.
At SXSW, because ninety percent of the entertainment news you read over the next two months will involve the letters "SXSW."
Don't worry, though, the ratings were so bad that it's basically DOA.
Yesterday, Peter Berg—the guy responsible for the screen adaptations of Friday Night Lights—revealed that the beloved TV series would not add a big-screen coda, as the long-discussed project had been officially benched. Here's why that's great news.
The fictional ‘Pulp Fiction’ Hawaiian burger joint has taken over the Stallion Grill on Airport Boulevard and there's a whole bunch of film equipment outside.
New reports surfaced that "Preacher," a comic cult favorite, may be developed by the cable network. If it is succesfully brought to a television audience, it could spark a national dialogue about what it means to be from Texas.
Will Cormac McCarthy’s films tarnish his literary reputation?
It's about a race car driver in 1955 Italy, and—spoiler alert—it stars Jason Schwartzman.
To help launch his forthcoming cable network, Robert Rodriguez is blowing up his cult classic film into a ten-part television series—but unsurprisingly, original From Dusk Till Dawn star George Clooney isn't reprising his leading role. Here's who the series has cast instead.
As the trailer to his new movie proves, only Wes Anderson could make a movie this Wes Anderson-y.
Matthew McConaughey plays a bigoted man dying of AIDS in Dallas Buyers Club—and proves once again that he should be taken seriously.
Machete Kills, the second installment of Robert Rodriguez's over-the-top action franchise set on the border, opens today. Thankfully, it's not a documentary.
Barbie Thomas lost her arms when she was two years old but that didn't stop her from becoming a professional bodybuilder.
"Ain’t Them Bodies Saints" is a Texas film in many ways—the setting, the story, the director, and two producers—yet there wasn't enough incentive to get the filmmakers to shoot the film in their home state.
Longview’s Forest Whitaker is having the sort of year that should put him in the Hollywood elite once and for all.
Thought winning an Oscar would make Sandra Bullock take chances? Think again.
In his next film, "Mud," Austin filmmaker Jeff Nichols tackles the novel that Hemingway once called the source of all modern American literature.
When Texas Monthly created a list of the ten best movies about Texas, they chose to not include documentaries. What gives? So now, just in time for SXSW, a list that applauds the films about the true stories of Texas.
The former Disney star busts a very R-rated move.
The Texas actor pays tribute to a fellow Hill Country native.
Why has almost nobody had a chance to appreciate the UT alum's Oscar-worthy turn in the delightful domestic farce "If I Were You"?
Has Richard Linklater just completed the greatest trilogy in film history?
The number of Texas-based filmmakers at Sundance proves that our vibrant filmmaking community is thriving.
Political junkies sad the legislature is in an off year can dig their teeth into two new documentaries about Texas politicians premiering this month.
The unfortunate typo on the commencement programs for the LBJ School of Public Affairs was discussed on The View Tuesday.
Nearly fifteen years after Richard Linklater and I started talking about turning a Texas Monthly story into a major motion picture, it’s finally hitting the big screen, with a little help from Jack Black, Matthew McConaughey, Shirley MacLaine—and a seventy-year-old retired hairdresser from Rusk named Kay Baby Epperson.
How Matthew McConaughey got discovered, why Renée Zellweger’s part is so small, why some of the actresses can’t eat ketchup to this day, and everything else you didn’t know about the making of the classic high school flick Dazed and Confused.
The original Urban Cowboy.
“The only way you hit that next level in terms of film persona is to let go and accept the fact that, for better or worse, you’re all you’ve got . . . The camera’s not as concerned with what you are can do as who you are.”
When my friend Tom Huckabee and I were seventeen, we pooled our money and bought a new Kodak Ektasound Super-8 system. One of the first films we made was a black and white pseudodocumentary called Victory at Auschwitz, which we shot in the old train yard off West Vickery in
After more than two decades in the movie business—including star turns in Apollo 13, Twister, and now his own Traveller—Fort Worth’s Bill Paxton is finally getting what’s coming to him.
Is Friday Night Lights the best TV show ever made about Texas? Or just the first one (sorry, J.R.! Sorry, Hank!) that’s tried so hard to get the details right?
Twenty-five years ago, Larry McMurtry published a novel called Lonesome Dove—and Texas hasn’t looked the same since. Listen in as more than thirty writers, critics, producers, and actors, from Peter Bogdonavich and Dave Hickey to Tommy Lee Jones, Robert Duvall, and Anjelica Huston, tell the stories behind the book (and
Barry CorbinGrowing up in Lubbock, I didn’t want to be a real cowboy, because I knew a bunch of them and they didn’t get paid anything and they were hurt all the time. But I wanted to play one in the movies. My favorite early on was Bill Elliott, and
An animated personality.
Texas high school football may be in decline, but filmmakers still want to play.
You can lead a herd to water, but can you make a miniseries faithful to Larry McMurtry’s Texas classic?
The head of the Texas Film Commission hustles Hollywood movie-makers into putting more of Texas in the can.
A match made in heaven and blessed by Hollywood.
Ready for her close-up.
Director Oliver Stone may not be sure who did it or how, but he is sure he knows why.
When Dallas’s very own Marvin Lee Aday—that’s Meat Loaf to you—optioned one of my screenplays, he didn’t just offer me a glimpse of paradise by the dashboard lights. He also helped me write a novel.
One Texan’s tribute to Liz.
“When you come with absolutely zero connections, you have to claw your way up, which I did.”