PICCOLO GRANDE SCHERMO - Scanzi for President! "I remake di serie tv cult al cinema, tipo CHIPs, sono un sacrilegio. Se fallisce pure Lynch con Twin Peaks chiudete il sarcofago!"

Articolo di Andrea Scanzi su "Il Fatto Quotidiano"
A detta di uno dei diretti interessati, o forse per meglio dire delle vittime: "Sembra una versione soft porn di Scemo e Più Scemo". Parola di Larry Wilcox. Parlava di CHIPs, di cui è stato uno dei due protagonisti ("quello biondo") dal 1977 al 1983. Solo che Wilcox aveva interpretato la serie televisiva, mica il film. Che, evidentemente, gli ha fatto parecchio schifo. Prima di aggiustare un po' il tiro, concedendo alla nuova pellicola una parvenza di decenza, Wilcox ha pure aggiunto: "Ben fatto, Warner Bros! Hai giusto rovinato il brand di CHIPs e di Calif Highway Patrol. Bella mossa!".

Il film CHIPs, girato 34 anni dopo l'ultima puntata della serie, uscirà nelle sale italiane il 20 luglio. L'altro protagonista storico, Erik Estrada cioè Francis Poncharello detto "Ponch", è stato meno duro. Alla prima americana era presente e fa pure un piccolo cameo nel film. Estrada, che l'anno scorso è diventato davvero poliziotto (a 66 anni) per il Dipartimento di Polizia di St. Anthony in California, si è dimostrato assai conciliante. A lui l'idea del reboot cinematografico è piaciuta proprio: "Non stanno insultando nessuno: stanno solo proponendo la loro versione".
Nell'attesa (non esattamente spasmodica) di vedere l'opera e con ciò capire se ha ragione il biondo o il moro, un fatto è certo: c'è una gran voglia di rimpiangere -e addirittura reinterpretare, che è poi in questo caso un riesumare - quel buco nero spesso tremendo che sono stati gli Anni Ottanta. Per carità, è stato un decennio con fiammate qua e là autentiche: nella musica, nel cinema, nella tivù. Solo che quasi sta esagerando. In primo luogo, quando ti riduci a fare il film su CHIPs quarant'anni dopo la prima puntata, certifichi implicitamente che la mancanza di idee nuove del cinema è pressoché accecante. L'esatto opposto delle serie tivù, che rispetto ai tempi di CHIPs hanno fatto passi da gigante. I passi di Lost, di Breaking Bad, di Sons of Anarchy, di True Detective. Eccetera. In seconda istanza, la proliferazione di operazioni-riesumazione legate agli Ottanta non coincide quasi mai con rese qualitative esaltanti. Dodici anni fa è uscito Hazzard. Ve lo ricordate? No? Beati voi. Il film era ispirato alla serie omonima più o meno coeva di CHIPs. Il risultato, per usare un eufemismo, non si rivelò esattamente esaltante. E difficilmente lo sarà il sequel di Magnum PI, altra serie mitica (va be') degli Ottanta. Ci stanno lavorando, uscirà a vent'anni dopo l'ultima puntata e la protagonista sarà la figlia di Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV (o se preferite "Magnum", interpretato da Tom Selleck).
Perché ci mancano così tanto quegli anni? Forse perché eravamo giovani e forse belli, forse perché voltarsi indietro è un gesto che prima o poi viene voglia di fare. Anche solo per vedere l'effetto che fa. Un gesto umanissimo, ma artisticamente - e non solo artisticamente - scivolosissimo. C'è sempre il rischio di rovinare il ricordo, di scoprire quanto nel frattempo tutto sia cambiato: di quanto, per non farla cadere troppo dall'alto, il tempo abbia travolto ogni cosa. Pochi giorni fa si sono commossi in tanti nel vedere la foto di "Starsky" Paul Micheal Glaser che spingeva "Hutch" David Soul sulla sedia a rotelle. Anche gli "eroi" invecchiano, come ci aveva dimostrato inequivocabilmente pure Harrison Ford mostrandoci un Han Solo che, tutto sommato, nell'ultimo Guerre stellari non vedeva l'ora di farsi ammazzare (con quel figlio coglione, oltretutto). Più che rimpiangerli a casaccio, verrebbe solo voglia di lasciare gli Anni Ottanta dove stavano, in quel limbo posticcio tra consumismo frainteso e folgorazione disattesa. Quel poco di bello che c'è stato non può essere ripetuto.
Se n'è accorto perfino Michael Mann, che pure è un genio, quando ha provato a portare al cinema la serie televisiva Miami Vice (di cui era produttore esecutivo): il film, nonostante cast ed effetti speciali, fu una delusione. Meglio poi non parlare dell'obbrobrio che è stato il remake di Point Break, gioiello di inizio Novanta con un Patrick Swayze leggendario: perché replicare un'epifania non replicabile? Non ha senso, non è giusto. Per certi versi è persino sacrilego.

In questa mania tracimante di revival è rimasto invischiato addirittura David Lynch. Ha deciso di riprendere Twin Peaks, quella sì una serie straordinaria, ventisette anni dopo. Ci sono ancora molti attori "originali": di fatto, più che un sequel, ¡proprio la terza stagione che in tanti avrebbero voluto vedere. Solo che nel frattempo è passato un quarto di secolo. Un rischio, un azzardo, una follia. Soltanto Lynch può riuscirci: se fallisce pure lui, per favore, chiudete per sempre il sarcofago di quegli anni.

PICCOLO GRANDE SCHERMO - Kristen Bell, chi te l'ha fatto fare (a parte il dio Denaro)? Il trailer del film di "CHiPs" è un altro rovina-cult: diventa comedy (alla stessa stregua della pellicola di "Starsky&Hutch"). C'è poco da ridere...

PICCOLO GRANDE SCHERMO - Achtung! Il film di "CHiPs" si mette in...moto: Kristen Bell nel cast!

News tratta da "Collider"
We last head about Dax Shepard’s adaptation of CHiPs last September when he commented on the film by saying that it would be more serious than the original TV series, which ran from 1977-1983. However, we didn’t know when California Highway Patrol motorcycle cops Don Baker (Shepard) and Frank “Ponch” Poncherello (Michael Pena) would be hitting the road. Pena said that the project was greenlit two or three weeks ago, which means he’s been preparing for the role:
"I had to start learning how to ride a motorcycle, rehearsing, and then working out. I’ve been throwing up like every day after workouts. I like food, you know? And I also like reading, being on my iPad, no walks in the park; just chilling with my son. We just lounge and this [gestures to stomach] gets bigger".

Pena also revealed that the movie would be set in the present day, and reiterated Shepard’s earlier statement that the film would be in the vein of Lethal Weapon. Specifically, don’t expect a comedy that’s barraging you with jokes:

It’s more like a Lethal Weapon where there’s a lot of action and what we wanted to do is if there’s any comedy that we do, it’s not like one-liners here and there, like we’re the guys always being stand-up comedians. It’s almost like you lose a little bit of the plotline whenever you’re off doing your own comedy thing, so we’re focusing a little more on the plot, if that makes any sense whatsoever.

Following up on his comment about how the movie will be “Lethal Weapon-ish”, he added that they’re going for an R-rating, which should be interesting. At the very least, it looks like they’re definitely avoiding the Starsky & Hutch approach. Finally, Pena also noted that the film will co-star Vincent D’Onofrio and that they’re trying to get Kristen Bell (who’s married to Shepard) for a role, so it looks like they’re putting together a strong cast this adaptation. I have no feelings one way or the other about the CHiPs TV series, but I like these actors, and it sounds like they have a solid take on the material, so I’m excited to see what they do with it.

PICCOLO GRANDE SCHERMO - Fate Estrada! Il film di "Chips" si mette in...moto!

News tratta da Deadline.com

Warner Bros has set Dax Shepard to write, direct and star in a screen version of CHiPS, that TV series that ran from 1977-83 and featured two officers who patrolled the highways of California armed with motorcycles and the tightest khaki cop uniforms in television history. Shepard will play Officer Jon Baker (played in the original by Larry Wilcox), while Michael Pena is attached to play Frank “Ponch” Poncherello, the role Erik Estrada originated. Rick Rosner created the NBC series. This is the most serious Warner Bros has been in turning CHiPS into a film. The studio tried it years ago, after That ’70s Show star Wilmer Valderrama showed up in the office of exec Greg Silverman (who’s now running production at the studio). Dressed in the signature tight-fitting uniform, Valderrama merely said, “Funny, right?” — and he walked out with a deal and an intention to play Ponch. Apparently it wasn’t funny enough because while TV shows from that era such as Starsky & Hutch and The Dukes Of Hazzard got movie transfers, CHiPS stalled. The new take is envisioned as much in the tone of Bad Boys and Lethal Weapon than a comedy. Shepard is known mostly in humorous roles and the series Parenthood. He’s actually a professional driver of race cars and motorcycles, and he expects to be performing his own riding and stunts. Andrew Panay is producing, along with Shepard’s Primate Pictures. Rosner will be exec producer, and Warner Bros execs Jesse Ehrman and Nik Mavinkurve will oversee for the studio. Shepard most recently directed and wrote the indie comedy Hit & Run, which he starred in with Kristen Bell. CHiPS will be the first one for a studio.

L'EDICOLA DI LOU - Stralci e commenti sui telefilm dai giornali italiani e stranieri

Pubblichiamo la seconda e ultima parte dell'intervista a Damian Lewis di "Homeland" realizzata da Kaye Schilling di "GQ" (Usa) - La prima parte nel Post di ieri.

GQ: Last year's finale was possibly the tensest episode of TV I've ever watched. The scenes in the bunker, where the bomb is strapped to your chest and it doesn't go off, and then you reset it in the bathroom—it was exhausting! How do you conjure up and maintain that kind of intensity?
Damian Lewis: The short answer is imagination. You build structure around yourself, you build walls around that reality until its water tight, and then you drop yourself in it, like it's a tank, and you don't let anything dilute it or invade that space. But by that stage in the season I'd spent four or five months playing a guy who is clearly very confused, whose conviction is honorable, but whose means to deal with it—the way he wants to deal with it—is less honorable and will result in mass murder, so it's not excusable in any way. But he's such a compelling character that it's understandable why he wants to act, because there are plenty of people who sympathize with his viewpoint regarding [the war in Iraq], if not the means in which he wants to deal with it.

GQ: That's one of the keys to the show's success, I think, that you do sympathize with a U.S. Marine who is a mole for Al Qaeda.
Damian Lewis: This was what was great about the first season: Brody's two realities. If you like, he's working under cover, so he lives a life of deception and dishonesty. But at the same time he's a man genuinely struggling with coming back from a war zone, who has been abused and changed in some way—just radically changed. And he's trying to make sense of his life at the same time. And that was always a clever piece of writing, because people—not everybody—but some people found themselves sympathizing with him while condemning him at the same time. So it was confusing for the audience. And I think that sort of ambiguity, that sort of strange place he lives in, comes to a peak at that moment where he wants to act in the name of an ideology and a cause, and is brought back from the brink by the real love of another human being, his daughter Dana. This bubble that he's lived in, this trance-like state he's lived in so he can commit an act of murder and suicide, is pierced by the sound of Dana's voice on the phone. That brings him back, which was a good message at the end of last season. That's more important than—that wins over some abstract cause that he's placed his faith in.

GQ: Is Brody's veneer cracking in season two?
Damian Lewis: Without giving away any spoilers, it's safe to say that at the end of that first season, he makes himself clear to Abu Nazir—who is turning out to be one of the great, abusive father figures in drama. For anyone who has had a bad relationship with their dad, or a confused relationship with a mentor figure, he will ring very true. He abused and broke this man when he was his prisoner, and then loves him, or shows him love, and forgives him in equal measure. So Brody is a complete abuse victim. He takes a very strong stand at the end of the first season; he's unable to go through with what Abu wants him to do and says he wants to choose a non-violent path. He stands up to this man for the first time in the seven or eight years he's known him, and what's going to be Brody's dilemma this season is that they won't let him. They won't let him be the man he wants to be because they effectively have him. And whereas before Brody was an unsettling figure for the viewer—no one quite knew he was, or what he felt, or what he was going to do, because Brody himself didn't really know that—now, I think, he's made a statement and he won't be allowed to act naturally. That's his dilemma, his tragedy, running through season two.

GQ: And now that Brody is a congressman, a public figure, he's also having to maintain a public face.
Damian Lewis: That's in addition to the domestic face he still has to maintain for his family. He's living a double life much more knowingly now. So Brody this season is in an even more heightened state of paranoia, never quite sure when people are going to contact him. So there's a shift there.

GQ: Did you have any reservations about the part before you accepted it?
Damian Lewis: I had a conversation with Howard and Alex just before accepting it, which was all done by telephone because I was filming in Manchester at the time. I just said, If this is a show about how a U.S. Marine is converted to Islam and then is radicalized and becomes a violent Muslim, I don't want to do it. Because I think that's dull and irresponsible. Then you're just a Muslim baddie, and I think that's unhelpful right now. I said, If his conversion to Islam is something that can be sustaining and nurturing to him, and actually is a force for good, and is actually something that is very peaceful and beautiful, then I'm interested. And I think that's more subversive, actually. And I think they kept to their word, and very painstakingly tried to find motivation for Brody that's, you know—it's too easy to make it that he's brainwashed. Brody's not brainwashed, he's broken, definitely, and he's abused and a confused soul. But the reason in the end that he wants to blow up the Vice President is because he's committed acts of terrorism, and it's for more personal vigilante reasons that he wants to act and take revenge. Abu Nazir actually doesn't successfully radicalize him. I don't think that's ever suggested in the first season. And that's why when it was finally decided that he would strap on a suicide vest, that surprised me, and I fought it for a bit: Really? Are you sure that's what you want to do, given all the work you've done about trying to promote the idea that Brody is not an Islamic or Muslim terrorist. But it was so powerful and symbolic, and such a political gesture to do that.

GQ: How much input do you have in the role?
Damian Lewis: I made that point clear at the beginning, and they are always happy to have my input, but honestly the role is taxing enough that it just needs all my attention, and for me to be sending notes or getting into conversations about trying to change things? That actually delays the final draft arriving. So I need to just get working with what I have.

GQ: Have you thought about who Brody was before the war?
Damian Lewis: He was a regular Joe. A conservative, Southern guy who had enough smarts about him maybe to set up his own company in carpentry or construction or something; he wasn't the guy just shifting the rubble. But, you know, two kids, a dog, an SUV out the front, a pension plan. Kind of uncomplicated. And I think totally changed by the war. A little bit older than his wife, who he probably met while she was still in high school. He was 21 and she was 17—something like that. Put the moves on her. Maybe waited until she was legal.

GQ: What kind of preparation did you do?
Damian Lewis: I read a lot about Islam. I have a Koran by my bed. I went to the Central London mosque, and, you know, they are all bending over backwards to create a good image. The PR is working overtime. So they are very welcoming. They invite you in to observe prayer. And I'm good friends with Imam Bisam, who runs the Islamic community in Charlotte, and he's invited me into prayer.

GQ: This might be too personal, but are you religious?
Damian Lewis: I grew up in a totally middle of the road Anglican household, and we had chapel every day at boarding school. I was always the prayer of St. Francis, so it was very much a part of my life. But I'm not a believer. I don't believe in the Resurrection or the Holy Trinity, so it kind of stops there, right? There are certain things, certain central tenets, you kind of have to buy into. What I do believe in is the moral code of Christianity. I believe in Jesus as a profit, though not the son of God. Which is what a Muslim would tell you, too; that's he's one of the five revered prophets. But I'm a little inclined to think that religions are a little like cults, and I particularly feel that after spending time in the South.

GQ: Were you following the war before you got this part?
Damian Lewis: Of course. I was among the million or so people who marched against the war in Iraq in 2003. And that was part of the concern for me—where would the show go politically.

GQ: Because Howard and Alex, who were writers on 24, got flak for that show being too conservative?
Damian Lewis: [24 co-creator] Joel Surnow did initially, more than Howard. I think that was a very Might is Right response to 9/11. Jack Bauer would just get it done—he was a kind of hunky, macho, grunting hero.

GQ: Bauer was so freaking serious. Just once, crack a joke!
Damian Lewis: I know! I've met Kiefer and he's a witty guy. Actually he's very entertaining to spend time with. So they could have written to that, but they chose not to.

GQ: To me, 24 was more of a cartoon—as opposed to Homeland, which has more nuance and feels emotionally deeper.
Damian Lewis: I'm glad you think that; I think that too. I think that's Alex's contribution. It's very much more where his sensibility lies. And as you know he co-created the show with Howard and they've known each other since they were 19. They roomed together at Princeton.

GQ: President Obama's other favorite show is The Wire, which starred Dominic West. I read somewhere that you started acting after you saw him do Hamlet. Is that correct?
Damian Lewis: Not strictly, but we were at the same school together—Eaton—and I saw him do Hamlet. He was a few years ahead of me—I think he was 17—and I thought, Wow, he's fantastic. That's what I want to do. But I'd been acting since I was eight. Drama was a really important part of the curriculum at the schools I went to, and I loved it at the word go. I was just always better and happier when I was doing theater. And then I said to hell with university and decided to go to theater school in London. And I've been just very lucky.

GQ: Did you ever think, I'm going to be an American TV star!
Damian Lewis: Not at all. I came out of the classical theater. You know, American TV for me, as a kid, was Batman. It was Adam West and Burt Ward! And, you know, CHiPs, Dukes of Hazzard. That's the American TV I grew up on. So that was another world, and nothing to do with my experience.

GQ: There's a sense these days that TV roles are richer than what you find in movies. Would you agree with that?
Damian Lewis: It depends on what kind of movie or TV you're making. But I do think there are more roles written for men in TV, and that's because the classic arenas of hospitals, crime, and law tend to work better with men and women rather than 24-year-olds. Casting directors are generally looking for hot and new and shiny for film. Hollywood doesn't seem to want to spend the time to make stars anymore. But I think one of the reasons the writing on American TV has gotten so much better than when I was watching as a kid, is that the best of it does feel like films. One reason is that a lot of the big film directors—like Gus Van Sant, Michael Mann, Martin Scorcese—are in TV now. But I think it also has something to do with the independent film world sort of dying out in the past five years—films like Keane, which I was able to make in New York City six years ago, was almost like the last moment you could get a film together in the two million dollar range and have it seen by anyone.

GQ: Last question, and I save the best for last. Tell me about your groupies, the Damian Bunnies.
Damian Lewis: What can I tell you that you can't imagine?

GQ: When did you first become aware of them?
Damian Lewis: I feel like they've been around for a long time, though I genuinely can't remember when they first appeared in my life. You know, they're a fantastic group of fans.

GQ: How do they, um, celebrate you?
Damian Lewis: They send me their panties. [Laughs] This is an old story now, but it's very entertaining. About five or so years ago, the members decided to send me their panties for my birthday. This one woman coordinated it, and about forty women responded. I got sent this Victoria's Secret's box full of underwear from as far away as Australia. There were little tags attached to each one, with a name and age and hometown. So, for instance, an enormous pair of Granny pants, saying "Hi, grandmother of 17 from Minnesota." And then a lacy g-string: "Hi! I'm 19. My name is Kimberly and I'm from Australia!" I had them strewn around my bedroom—I mean, how often does that happen? And after about 48 hours, I remember thinking, You are a sick bastard, you better clear these knickers up. So I throw them in the trash and put it outside for collection. I go out and come back later that night—at this point, I lived in Camden Town, on the same block as Amy Winehouse, and it's an old, cobbled street, very Dickensian, and it had been raining, and the moon was hitting the cobblestones in a very picturesque way, and I turn onto my street, and I think, What is all that shit in the road? And I get closer to it and I realize it's all the panties, all in a line, going around the corner, like Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs.

GQ: I can't believe you threw them all away.
Damian Lewis: Don't tell them.

NEWS - La vita è un telefilm...vintage. Fox Retro rispolvera i miti a puntate del passato e allaccia i legami con i cult del presente

Articolo di Stefano Priarone su "La Stampa" di oggi

"Prendiamo l’ultimo grido del «gioco aperitivo», un classico del ceto medio in vacanza nei villaggi turistici. Scordatevi il karaoke, la musica è roba superata. Il massimo quest’anno è indovinare al primo colpo sigle e citazioni dei telefilm Anni 70-80, con medici affermati che si sgolano a cantare «nano nano» da Mork e Mindy, e cauti commercialisti che ribattono colpo su colpo con «Che cavolo stai dicendo Willis?» dal Mio amico Arnold. E’ un momento d’oro per le vecchie serie americane, con cui sono cresciute le generazioni dei quaranta cinquantenni: dal 1° agosto gli appassionati hanno addirittura un canale tutto per loro, Fox Retro, sul bouquet di Sky, dove possono vedersi a ripetizione Charlie's Angels, Baywatch, Miami Vice, I Jefferson, Love Boat. Serie magari stilisticamente un po’ così, ma che hanno indubbiamente influenzato l'immaginario collettivo, e di cui molti personaggi dello spettacolo non hanno mai fatto mistero di essere fan (dal dj Linus a Paola Cortellesi, da Gianni Boncompagni a Valerio Mastrandrea). Una passione che li accomuna a molti insospettabili: nella sua autobiografia I'm Not Serious l'ex campione di tennis americano John McEnroe racconta che quando nel 1984 ha iniziato a uscire con l'attrice Tatum O'Neal (che in seguito avrebbe sposato) era eccitatissimo dall'idea di fare sesso nella casa dove abitava la compagna del padre di Tatum, Farrah Fawcett (recentemente scomparsa per un tumore), sua fantasia erotica adolescenziale quando era una delle Charlie's Angels. D’altronde, come sostiene il saggio di Chiara Poli e Leopoldo Damerini (instancabile organizzatore del Telefilm Festival milanese) recentemente uscito per Garzanti, La vita è un telefilm. La saggezza del nuovo millennio nelle 2020 migliori battute delle grandi serie televisive, «da decenni il senso della vita - più che la famiglia, la scuola, le chiese o i partiti - ce lo insegnano i telefilm, attraverso le loro storie, i loro protagonisti, le loro battute memorabili». Così a guardare Fox Retro non sono solo gli inguaribili nostalgici che rivedendo vecchie serie cercano di ritornare all’età d’oro della loro infanzia e adolescenza. Gli stessi che leggono ristampe di vecchi fumetti (Tex, i supereroi della Marvel), che giocano ai primissimi videogame per Commodore 64 e sospirano davanti agli incontri di tennis di Bjorn Borg. Ci sono anche quelli chee, un po' traumatizzati da serie «per iniziati» come Lost e Heroes (spesso incomprensibili per lo spettatore casuale e anche piuttosto pessimiste), le vedranno per l'ironia, la solarità, la scrittura felice e le trame lineari, le apprezzeranno quindi più per il loro valore intrinseco che per «l'effetto nostalgia».Non pochi infine rivedranno le vecchie serie pur amando molto anche quelle attuali. Guardare Fox Retro è anche un modo per rendersi conto di come la serialità attuale sia «figlia» di quella degli anni Settanta, Ottanta e Novanta. Le Charlie's Angels, così glamour e segretamente innamorate del capo (il ricco Charlie, che non appare mai) possono magari sembrare «sessiste» agli spettatori attuali, ma in realtà sono state un modello di donne vincenti per più generazioni di ragazzine (che spesso giocando si ribattezzavano con i nomi degli Angeli). Inoltre probabilmente non avremmo avuto eroine «al femminile» come Buffy l'ammazzavampiri interpretata da Sarah Michelle Gellar) o come le Streghe della serie omonima (le attrici Alyssa Milano, Holly Marie Combs, Shannen Doherty e Rose McGowan) senza gli Angeli di Charlie a fare da apripista. Lo stesso Lost, come ha dichiarato uno dei suoi creatori Damon Lindelof, è stato fortemente influenzato, nello stile narrativo (allusivo e contorto) e nei temi (fantastici) da serie Anni Novanta come Twin Peaks di David Lynch e X-Files di Chris Carter. Il Tony DiNozzo eroico agente e tombeur des femmes del serial NCIS è senz'altro «figlio» di Tom Selleck-Magnum P.I., il detective privato delle Hawaii (del resto le serie condividono lo stesso creatore, Donald P. Bellisario), anche se Di Nozzo è preso meno sul serio dalle donne (i tempi sono cambiati). Le bagnine di Baywatch (in testa un'icona sexy come Pamela Anderson) possono essere considerate delle «protoveline»: nella serie la trama contava poco, tutti volevano vedere i pezzi in stile video in cui le ragazze erano inquadrate mentre nuotavano o posavano per servizi di moda, erano un po' come gli «stacchetti» delle veline. Non dimentichiamo poi che molti divi di oggi si sono fatti le ossa con quei telefilm: in un episodio di Charlie’s Angels esordisce una giovanissima Kim Basinger, Michelle Pfeiffer recita nel ruolo di Jobina in Chips 3, mentre un Sylvester Stallone ragazzo indossa i panni del detective Rick Daley in Kojak 3. Per non parlare dell'effetto che questi telefilm hanno avuto sulla sfera sociale e politica. La sitcom degli Anni Settanta I Jefferson parlava della vita di due afroamericani arricchiti, testimoniava che l'America stava cambiando e che i neri non erano poi così diversi dai bianchi (il ricco George Jefferson era razzista nei confronti dei «visi pallidi» come e più di questi nei suoi confronti). E forse è anche grazie a questa serie se adesso il presidente degli States è Barack Obama".

ESCLUSIVA ANTEPRIMA - Dal telefilm al film: in attesa di "Sex and the City", è sempre più boom per le traduzioni cinematografiche di telefilm cult. In arrivo sul grande schermo "CHiPs", "Kung Fu", "Magnum P.I.", "A-Team", "Strega per amore", "Dallas"
Dopo le recenti versioni cinematografiche di "Miami Vice", "Hazzard", "Vita da strega" e "Starsky&Hutch", in attesa di vedere su grande schermo "Sex&the City", è sempre più boom a Hollywood per i film tratti dai telefilm di culto. Sull'onda del successo sempre più trasversale dei telefilm nel mondo (basti vedere l'exploit senza freno del mercato dei DVD di serie tv anche vintage), a Hollywood sono infatti già in lavorazione alcune attese traduzioni cinematografiche di indimenticati serial di successo. In cima alla lista spicca "CHiPs", il serial del 1977 su due agenti della polizia autostradale della California con protagonisti il bruno Erik Estrada e il biondo Larry Wilcox (al momento si sa solo che nella versione per il grande schermo Estrada sarà sostituito dal giovane emergente Wilmer Valderrama). "Kung Fu", telefilm epico del 1972 sulle gesta di un monaco Shaolin nella Cina di metà '800, sarà interpretato dallo stesso attore della serie, ovvero quel David Carradine rilanciatissimo dopo "Kill Bill" di Quentin Tarantino. Mentre si è sempre alla ricerca di un volto che possa interpretare al cinema "Magnum P.I." dopo il rifiuto di George Clooney e dopo che l'interprete del telefilm anni '80 Tom Selleck si era auto-candidato senza successo, si attende spasmodicamente la traduzione cinematografica di "A-Team", il cui primo ciak è previsto per il 2008 con un cast ancora da definire (si è parlato addirittura di contatti con Brad Pitt per il ruolo di "Sberla"). Sebbene il film di "Dallas" sia stato colpito da una disavventura dopo l'altra, la certezza di avere John Travolta nel ruolo di J.R. dopo l'addio di Jennifer Lopez nei panni di Sue Ellen garantisce la possibilità di poter vedere la sua realizzazione nel giro di due anni con una sceneggiatura completamente riscritta rispetto a quella originale. Regista della pellicola sarà l'indiana Gurinder Chadha - già dietro la cinepresa di "Sognando Beckam" - la quale sarà impegnata a dirigere in quasi contemporanea un'altra pellicola tratta da una serie tv di culto: "Strega per amore", la storia di un ammiraglio dell'Aeronautica che scopre in riva alla spiaggia un'antica bottiglia contenente lo spirito di una donna-genio sexy e un pò pasticciona che esaudisce i suoi desideri, potrebbe avere Jimmy Fallon nel ruolo che fu di Larry Hagman - guarda caso, il futuro J.R. del serial "Dallas" - nella versione tv del 1965.