The Kerala Story 2 producer Vipul Shah says Kerala HC Division Bench’s final verdict is the “biggest proof of the truth of film”

Producer Vipul Amrutlal Shah has stated that The Kerala Story 2: Goes Beyond does not target the state of Kerala or its people. His remarks came after the Kerala High Court Division Bench vacated the interim stay on the film’s release on Friday, February 27, clearing the path for its theatrical run. Addressing the media shortly after the court’s decision, Shah said that the legal hurdle had been removed and screenings had begun. He described the film as a “true” account made after considerable effort and rejected allegations from certain quarters that it promotes propaganda. “The Kerala High Court Division Bench has withdrawn the stay that we got yesterday. And they have cleared the way for the release of the film. Now our shows have already started opening. So I request the people that this is a true film made with a lot of hard work. And the biggest proof of the truth of our film is that the Kerala court has vacated the stay order. If our film was a lie, then the Kerala court would...

‘I’m not a saint’: Abel Ferrara on his wild career, rehab and nightclubbing with Donald Trump

The last time our writer interviewed him, the drugged up director dozed off then asked for coke. Now sober, he reflects on #MeToo, Italian fascism and his fight for the final cut

The last time I met Abel Ferrara, he dozed off in the middle of our interview then woke up and asked me to score him some coke. It was 1996, and he was in the UK promoting his gangster drama The Funeral – which the actor Vincent Gallo alleged Ferrara had been too blitzed on crack to direct properly – and his vampire horror The Addiction. He was on a roll, his reputation fortified by King of New York, starring Christopher Walken as a flamboyant crime boss, and the gruelling Bad Lieutenant, with Harvey Keitel as a bent junkie cop. Ferrara was the scuzzball Scorsese: no matter how celebrated he became, he never shed the patina of grime from his early days as the star and director of porn film The Nine Lives of a Wet Pussy and the infamous “video nasty” The Driller Killer.

“You were the guy I fell asleep with?” he gasps now from his bright, high-ceilinged living room in Rome. He is calling via Zoom, his laptop resting on a shelf so he can pace around as he speaks, drinking from a bottle of San Pellegrino that he clutches by the neck. “You’re the guy? I’m sorry, man! Really, really.” Then he switches tack. “You let me down! You were 24, living in London, and you didn’t know where to score?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “All right. So where could we get some now?” A sandpapery cackle fills the air as he rocks on his heels. His hunched posture and jutting jaw make him the spit of the cartoon dog Muttley. He laughs like him, too.

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