Duff vs. Dunaway?
Apparently I’m not the only one amused by the cast of The Story of Bonnie and Clyde.
According to Chicago Sun-Times columnist Bill Zwecker, Faye Dunaway (who played Bonnie Parker in 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde) had a few choice words to say about Hilary Duff landing the title role. Here’s her response to the news, at least according to the source quoted in the paper:
Couldn’t they at least cast a real actress?
Ouch.
Since the quote came from an unnamed source and the paper actually used the phrase “Dunaway supposedly zinged,” I’m going to assume this is complete nonsense. But I don’t care — a knock-down, hair-pulling catfight between Duff and Dunaway is the stuff dreams are made of.
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Feed for Big Spoon
Sounds like a good match-up. Although with her “credibility” and plastic surgery history, Dunaway has far more to lose.
You should write more posts about ANIMALS!
[...] Remember last week, when Faye Dunaway slammed Hilary Duff over her upcoming role in The Story of Bonnie and Clyde? Well, it looks like Lizzie McGuire is fighting back — and hard. In an interview with E!’s Daily 10, Hilary said: I think that my fans that are going to go see the movie don’t even know who she is, so you know… . I think it was a little unnecessary, but I might be mad if I looked like that now too. [...]
For some people, Faye Dunaway might be just another over the hill actress. But for her most devoted fans, myself included, she is a religion. That she exists is secondary to the fact that, as Elie Wiesel said of Jerusalem, she lives within me. She is a solemn, gnostic majesty, and I hope I can do her a shred of justice here.
Unlike her main contemporary rival, Jane Fonda, whose remarkable force of personality prefigured the revolution in women’s gender roles, Dunaway was an enshrinement of the tradition of Hollywood glamour. Her extraordinary beauty owes itself at least in part to a certain neurotic heaviness which made her the most Garboesque of all modern actresses. Only Faye could have incarnated the lustful woman in extremis in “Chinatown” (the Great Fonda’s aggressive, populist style would have been unsuitable.) Likewise, no actress could have destroyed her career as Dunaway did by giving life to the fierce, primal virago in “Mommie Dearest”. Joan Crawford’s life was only a pretext for Faye to beggar the limitations of her dramatic technique, and crown herself Dunaway Assoluta in an incomparable act of creative destruction.
Dunaway’s mature star quality is equally praiseworthy: her extreme bitchery, whether it be throwing a cup of urine at Roman Polanski or berating the producer of a documentary on her life, continues the grand tradition of the Victorian dowager that one sees in Lady Bracknell in “The Importance of Being Earnest”. (Barbra Streisand is her only rival.) Dunaway is all man and all woman, a rear admiral and a siren. Usurpers of her crown, like Hilary Duff,cannot even be called rivals, for to attain the sublime as Dunaway has is a feat rare in the history of art.