If reports are to be believed, Clint Eastwood's marriage to Dina Eastwood could be over.
Clint Eastwood and wife Dina's relationship has gotten so bad that she has divorce on the mind, according to a report by TMZ.com. Mrs Eastwood entered rehab for depression and anxiety last week because she says her marriage is on the rocks and the possibility of divorcing from Hollywood legend Clint sent her over the edge.
Sources close to the couple tell the entertainment website that Clint and Dina - who've been married since 1996 - have been having serious marital issues for months and that Dina has been mulling over whether to end their marriage. An insider chose not to disclose the specifics of the couple's problems, though did confirm that Clint still believes the marriage is salvageable. They also said the rehab stint was Dina's choice and that she plans to stay at the exclusive facility in Arizona for a few months.
Reports of unrest in the marriage intensified when Clint was pictured with the Tribeca Film Festival without his wedding ring. The 82-year-old actor and director participated in a film event on Saturday (April 27, 2013) without the band and was also seen walking the streets sans ring. Clint and Dina have a daughter together, 16-year-old Morgan who featured in Dina's show along with Francesca - Eastwood's daughter from his relationship with actress Frances Fisher.
Continue reading: Clint Eastwood Wife Mulls Divorce After Heading Into Rehab
Fit snug into the mother superior of self-reflexive roles, Angelina Jolie once again finds herself the eye of the storm in Clint Eastwood's epic melodrama Changeling. Armed with her thick, crimson lips, period duds, and that ever-present cloche, Jolie goes all gooey as Christine Collins, a single mother who finds herself a media fulcrum when she denies that a boy returned to her by the LAPD is Walter, her son who had been kidnapped five months prior.
Based on a catastrophic piece of the infamous Wineville Chicken-Coop Murders, which ran from 1928 to 1930, and the ensuing trials that yielded a major ousting of the LAPD's top tier and almost no real answers, Changeling is an exceedingly visual film yet one that lacks confidence in its imagery, relying too often on clunky language and an unsteady lead performance. This is no loose adaptation of actual events: Collins fought against the terminally-corrupt LAPD for years, became a martyr for forced institutionalization, and kept her job as a roller-skating switchboard operator while continuing the search for her lost boy. That's no small feat for a lone woman in the late 20s/early 30s.
After taking the boy the LAPD presented home, Collins begins to document inaccuracies between the delivered boy and her son, only to be brushed off by Captain J.J. Jones (Jeffrey Donovan), the man in charge of the investigation. Support comes in the form of Reverend Gustav Briegleb (John Malkovich), a flamboyant radio preacher who's been hounding the LAPD for years. When Collins finally takes her story to the media, it's Gustav who starts yelling for her return as she is forced into a psychiatric hospital with a gaggle of mistreated women, the most vocal of whom is played by Amy Ryan.
In its third act, Eastwood switches focus to the trial and execution of Gordon Northcott (Jason Butler Harner), the man who kidnapped and slaughtered over 20 children on his ranch in Wineville, one of which was Collins' son. The introduction of Northcott disrupts the tone and mood of the film, stumbling from feminist parable to legal drama. It does permit a final scene between Collins and Northcott, allowing Jolie a final, enraged plea for closure: It's later revealed that Walter might have escaped Northcott's ranch, a fact that's meant to bolster an infuriating feel-good ending.
Changeling, like most of Eastwood's excellent latter-day work, is a classy affair, but one of technical weight rather than dramatic. Shot by Tom Stern, the brilliant cinematographer who has been working with Eastwood since 2002's Blood Work, the director's latest is covered in dehydrated colors and beautifully scored by Eastwood himself with lilting pianos and blustery strings. While Jolie overplays her scorned mother, the supporting cast blends in beautifully, especially Donovan's complexly-composited policeman and Malkovich's propulsive, lively clergyman. Schematically unstable, it's J. Michael Straczynski's woozy script that proves the film's most incapable cog, handling its cerebral and narrative shifts with the subtlety of a race car hitting a speed bump.
At a hulking 141-minute runtime, Changeling suffers from more than its fair share of showy moments, none more egregious than when momma bear profanely tells off the head of the psychiatric hospital. Eastwood's direction is proficient, but he finds it impossible for his actress and his aesthetics to coalesce. Unable to internalize the drama, Jolie engulfs every scene with an utterance of "I want my son back!," often cheapening the meticulous production design, courtesy of the talented James J. Murakami. It's a gaudy, showboat performance, trading nuance and grace for simple presence; I'll eat a small fishing boat if she doesn't get an Oscar nomination. British director Michael Winterbottom tempered Jolie the starlet as another single mother left as residue after a media-centric tragedy in A Mighty Heart by centering on the procedure of retrieval. With Eastwood, however, Jolie's weeping caterwaul reduces a firebrand of corrupt politics into a work of enthused pageantry.
First we're gonna catch this Zodiac guy, then we'll find your boy.
Director Clint Eastwood pulls no punches in "Million Dollar Baby," a devastating, gritty film-noir boxing drama that gets at the callused heart of the sport while also spiraling into an emotional tour de force.
Narrated with gravelly gravitas by Morgan Freeman, playing a washed-up fighter now mopping floors at a washed-out gym, the film stars Eastwood as a fatigued former cut man who reluctantly agrees to coach a novice woman boxer (Hilary Swank) running as hard and fast as she can from a white-trash upbringing that's still tethered to her with a psychological bungee cord -- the more she pulls away, the harder her past snaps back and hits her from behind.
Blessed with fearless, evocative performances, each with thick layers of leather-hide humanity, this near-masterpiece has a sweaty noir eloquence in its look (hard shadows fall across every corner of Eastwood's gym), in its dialogue (courtesy of screenwriter Paul Haggis, adapting two short stories from F.X. Toole's "Rope Burns" collection) and in its nothing-ever-comes-easy plot.
Continue reading: Million Dollar Baby Review
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