In the 1980s, The Starck Club was where everyone—gay, straight, conservative and liberal—went to be themselves and to break the rules. With the release of an eponymous documentary, the history of the club is finally being told.
A guide for first-timers and Marshmallows alike before the film's release on March 14.
Over the past twenty years, from his outpost in Texas, Robert Rodriguez has quietly revolutionized the movie business. What happens when he gets his own TV network?
Nearly everything about moviegoing has changed since I first fell in love with the big screen as a kid. But my ardor remains.
What to see, hear, read, and watch this month to achieve maximum Texas cultural literacy.
Will Cormac McCarthy’s films tarnish his literary reputation?
"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.
Scenes for Transformers 4 will be filmed in Central Texas, bringing millions to the local economy.
In his next film, "Mud," Austin filmmaker Jeff Nichols tackles the novel that Hemingway once called the source of all modern American literature.
He won an Olympic Gold Medal in Helsinki. He rubbed elbows with Hollywood royalty like John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara. He performed stunts in "McClintock!" and "Cheyenne." And now the 81-year-old former stunt man is publishing his memoir, "Cowboy Stuntman: From Olympic Gold to the Silver Screen."
Will Brittain stars in this new film, set in Austin, about a high school teacher's relationship with one of her students.
Al Reinert discusses An Unreal Dream, his new film about Morton, who was wrongfully convicted of killing his wife and served nearly 25 years in prison for the crime.
Terrence Malick is suddenly making a lot of movies. That’s the good news.
Has Richard Linklater just completed the greatest trilogy in film history?
Heart Stops Beating, the Sundance-featured short film about the Texas Heart Institute's unprecedented "continuous flow device," is reworked into a longer and more detailed version, now called Flatline.
Really good, according to most reviewers. Not only does the actor "dominate" Steven Soderbergh's male stripper film, but his "hilariously self-parodying" character plays the bongos and says "all right, all right, all right."
The star plugs his new movie and reveals more details about his recent wedding on The Tonight Show With Jay Leno.
The Internet's atwitter over the bongo-playing, oft-shirtless actor portraying the solemn JFK. But if Greg Kinnear can do it, why can't McConaughey?
The Revisionaries, a new documentary about the State Board of Education, received rave reviews after its premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival.
The documentary America's Parking Lot, which premiered at SXSW, captured the last days of tailgating at Texas Stadium with some of the team's most impassioned fans.
Bart Layton's documentary, The Imposter, recounts the story of a missing San Antonio child who was later found in Spain. Or was he?
The director of Bottled Up, a documentary about the now-deceased iconic Texas beverage, is offering a case (and executive producer credit) to anyone who donates $15,000 to help him complete his film.
1. For George Strait, the road doesn’t go on foreverI was tooling around Austin in 1981, enjoying the free-love vibe and listening to the radio, when I first heard George Strait. His voice came out of my little dashboard speaker so strong and clear I ran two lights and a stop sign.
Nearly six years after her death, Ann Richards, who is the subject of a new documentary, book, and stage play, still casts a long shadow.
Why doesn’t Texas’s greatest movie actress get the respect she deserves?
Can Steve Austin wrestle his acting career into submission?
Charlie Wilson’s warts.
How a Houston-based rapper and Selena Gomez became involved in an "avant-garde trashy-party-flick-meets-post-Scarface-gangster tragedy."
Director Jeremiah Zagar's short film, Heart Stop Beating, which premiered at Sundance, documents another visionary heart surgery procedure out of Houston.
Nearly 25 years after SMU received the death penalty, the Mustangs are finally on the trail to success. But an ESPN documentary reminds us how far the team had fallen thanks to ego, greed, and the religion of football.
Christian Sosa, the producer of a new horror flick called The Eves, talks about the film, the cast, and shooting in southeast Texas.
Alameda Street, Corpus Christi.
A new film presents a never-before-seen look at Dominique de Menil in her curatorial element.
Afghan artifacts in Houston; Texas Biennial.
A porn classic turns thirty.
Action Heroes 2008.
Geeks from Austin will destroy American cinema.
To the extent that the fabled Third Coast exists, it’s a bit of a patriarchy: of men and by men, including, most prominently, the indie visionary Rick Linklater and the boyish wonder Robert Rodriguez. But then there’s Avellán, Rodriguez’s ex, who continues to move mountains to make movies happen in
The prison affected me personally. I grew up parking cars at the prison rodeo. I had a stepfather who was a prison guard.
Reviewing Texas movies; saluting our flag.
As ever, Texas looms large in the movies’ imagination—large and largely inaccurate.
I thought it would be hard to make movies in this macho state, but we’ve come a long way, baby.
Most nights it’s an ordinary shopping center, but during the months of May and June, Fort Worth’s Town Center Mall became a war zone. That was the principal location where Mickey Rourke, the brawl-prone star of 9 1/2 Weeks and Diner, knocked out the indie feature Recoil. Rourke plays a
A couple of indie film producers.
An Austin filmmaker hopes to be the next Sundance kid.
Hollywood goes for Big Bend in a big way.
Sorry, Bob Dole. Austin director Robert Rodriguez’s follow-up to El Mariachi may be violent, but it’s also art.
Should Hollywood remake ‘Giant’? On the fortieth anniversary of the filming of the Texas epic, we imagine Brad Pitt playing Jett Rink’s grandson, Quentin Tarantino directing, and other scary scenarios.
For sixty years, Austinite Raymond Daum befriended Hollywood’s biggest stars. Now he’s selling off his memories.
