This terrific documentary isn't exactly a "making of," in that there's not a lot of attention paid to the actual filming of "Texasville," the literary sequel whose film adaptation Peter Bogdanovich re-assembled his "Last Picture Show" cast to make 20 years later. That's just as well, because "Texasville" was an all-around disappointment, at least at the time--I'd be more curious to see it again now after seeing "Picture This," but had felt no such impulse since its original run.
But "Picture Show" was the career-making movie for nearly everyone involved, as well as a big deal for them in other ways--as they relate here. Bogdanovich became involved with Cybill Shepherd and left his wife Polly Platt (his major collaborator to that point, and who returned for 'Texasville") for her; Timothy Bottoms pined with unrequited love for Shepard, both on- and offscreen; Cloris Leachman and Ellen Burstyn were going through painful divorces, while Jeff Bridges was recovering from his first serious relationship breakup. So the original movie was a difficult as well as important experience for all of them, and being reunited all these years later is an emotional occasion. They're all quite frank about these matters, though you might wish "Picture This" were much longer, since everything they have to say is so compelling, we'd like to hear more of it. (Particularly since Burstyn and Leachman are hardly heard from; the main voices here are Bogdanovich, Platt and Shepard.)
There's also some input from the books' author Larry McMurtry, who has a surprisingly wary relationship towards adaptations of his work--he'd simply rather not be involved in them--as well as with his hometown of Archer City, where both movies were shot. Some of the most entertaining material here is of interviews with the town's very Texan citizens, who naturally have all kinds of contradictory opinions about the books and movies that made them famous. On the one hand they think McMurtry just stole his fiction from local gossip, on the other they think his fiction has nothing to do with them whatsoever. They're proud that Hollywood brought them attention, but at the same time somehow begrudge the film industry its own inevitable spotlight. There's a funny sequence in which we hear some dumb-as-dirt local good old boys bragging how they don't give a damn about these movie people while simultaneously whining that they're not being put in the movie. This stuff is a lot like the portrait of small-town Texas society in the more recent "Bernie"--very funny, and stranger than fiction.
This is one of the best movies about the making of a movie (or rather two movies) I've ever seen, and as already mentioned, its only flaw is that it's far too short. I'm sure it would have been just as entertaining at twice the length.
But "Picture Show" was the career-making movie for nearly everyone involved, as well as a big deal for them in other ways--as they relate here. Bogdanovich became involved with Cybill Shepherd and left his wife Polly Platt (his major collaborator to that point, and who returned for 'Texasville") for her; Timothy Bottoms pined with unrequited love for Shepard, both on- and offscreen; Cloris Leachman and Ellen Burstyn were going through painful divorces, while Jeff Bridges was recovering from his first serious relationship breakup. So the original movie was a difficult as well as important experience for all of them, and being reunited all these years later is an emotional occasion. They're all quite frank about these matters, though you might wish "Picture This" were much longer, since everything they have to say is so compelling, we'd like to hear more of it. (Particularly since Burstyn and Leachman are hardly heard from; the main voices here are Bogdanovich, Platt and Shepard.)
There's also some input from the books' author Larry McMurtry, who has a surprisingly wary relationship towards adaptations of his work--he'd simply rather not be involved in them--as well as with his hometown of Archer City, where both movies were shot. Some of the most entertaining material here is of interviews with the town's very Texan citizens, who naturally have all kinds of contradictory opinions about the books and movies that made them famous. On the one hand they think McMurtry just stole his fiction from local gossip, on the other they think his fiction has nothing to do with them whatsoever. They're proud that Hollywood brought them attention, but at the same time somehow begrudge the film industry its own inevitable spotlight. There's a funny sequence in which we hear some dumb-as-dirt local good old boys bragging how they don't give a damn about these movie people while simultaneously whining that they're not being put in the movie. This stuff is a lot like the portrait of small-town Texas society in the more recent "Bernie"--very funny, and stranger than fiction.
This is one of the best movies about the making of a movie (or rather two movies) I've ever seen, and as already mentioned, its only flaw is that it's far too short. I'm sure it would have been just as entertaining at twice the length.