Liz & Dick: The Movie?

Earlier this week news broke that Paramount Pictures is in talks with Martin Scorsese to direct a film about the love affair of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, based on the book Furious Love by Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger.  And sudden chills ache my entire body.  Hollywood lore is endlessly fascinating, and I'm fairly sure not only to the cinema-obsessed like myself; Scorsese has he own lore attached to him, which only adds to the excitement and possibilities of a project (still in the earliest of development stages) that could wind up being absolutely killer.  Taylor and Burton famously met and started their torrid love affair on the set of the ill-fated 20th Century Fox disaster period epic Cleopatra (1963), a film that almost bankrupted the studio, but nonetheless still earned an Oscar nomination for Best Picture that year anyway (the film won an Oscar for Best Visual Effects, beating out the groundbreaking and amazing work on Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, which irks me beyond reason, but alas is off topic.)  The two fell hard for each other, and though both were married at the time, their love affair was and still is likely the definitive Hollywood romance, with Burton, a serious, trained actor of the highest caliber (and master of the Shakespearean tongue), and Taylor, one of the few ultimate voluptuous beauties Hollywood ever had, it must have been Brad and Angelina times a million.

If Scorsese really does this after all, it could end up being the ultimate show...he's famously a cinema buff, and as recently as The Aviator (2004) proved a great showman at recounting old Hollywood, my favorite scenes in the very long, slightly uneven biopic.  The ultimate question (aside from whose brave enough to write this is the first place; no screenwriter has been announced) is who can possibly be cast in these roles.  These are beyond larger than life roles, and simply put, they don't quite make them like they used to.  The acting styles of the days of Burton and Taylor have changed, both on and off set.  The easiest first guess at Taylor would probably be Angelina Jolie, no stranger to scandal or love affairs, or critics dismissing her acting over her looks.  But that may appear too easy.  And what of Burton, an actor of his gravitas almost appears unfathomable today.  Whatever the case, let the casting games begin.

Any ideas?

Elizabeth Taylor (1932-2011)

Hollywood sparkles less tonight and perhaps permanently with the passing of one of truest, greatest, ripest and richest movie stars that ever existed.  Where would one begin to start on her legacy on cinema.  As the youngster who first made her mark in National Velvet (1944), or the goddess who claimed such classics as A Place in the Sun (1951), Giant (1956) and the Tennessee Williams' classics Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and Suddenly, Last Summer (1959); silly Production Code be damned, this woman had such raw sensuality, beauty and talent that ignited any screen, not matter the size (I've only been privileged to see these massive films on the small screen!), or the grand goddess acting without a net in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1996.)  Or do we start with the Richard Burton years, which not only provided a great Hollywood love affair (Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt had nothing on them), as well as wonderful dripping films, all of which seemed a commentary on their relationship at the time-- tempestuous, passionate, aggressive, hostile and loving-- my personal favorite is their interplay in The Taming of the Shrew (1967.)  Or do start with the disaster that was Cleopatra (1963), which at the time nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, and still managed to get nominated for Best Picture.  Or her eight husbands, one of which-- Eddie Fischer-- was stolen right from Debbie Reynolds!  Or her beloved diamonds, her humanitarian efforts fighting against AIDS when it truly was brave; damn Reagon era screwed everything up!  Or her friendship with Michael Jackson.  Or the wondrous movie land chemistry she shared with Montgomery Clift, proving once and forever they don't make like they used to.  Or her two Oscar wins (the first for Butterfield 8 (1960), a film she publicly rejected and famously won the award while showing off her tracheotomy scar, the second for Virginia Woolf, a landmark if ever there was one.)

My first encounters with La Taylor were auspicious, due mostly to my age, not taste-- it was The Flintstones (1994), and her brief voice work as Maggie on The Simpsons (she just sweetly said, "Daddy."  But Hollywood has lost a legend, and the overwhelming sadness will last a while, I'm afraid.  Do oneself a favor and check out her glorious filmography, and treasure it, for she was more than a gossip fixture, husband stealer, and wirey Golden Globe presenter...she was a goddess.