Several cinemas yet to open May 1 bookings; exhibitors face ‘agni pariksha’ as they struggle to accommodate Raja Shivaji, Ek Din, The Devil Wears Prada 2, Patriot, KD - The Devil and holdover releases

Issues over screen-sharing have become extremely common now, and this week, the situation has intensified significantly. This is because several major films in different languages are releasing simultaneously, leaving programmers at their wits’ end while allocating the desired number of shows to each of them. As expected, with less than 24 hours to go for the releases, the issues are yet to be sorted. In Mumbai, theatres like Regal, MovieTime Suburbia, PVR Le Reve, Roxy, Eros IMAX, Kasturba and Nazrana hadn’t opened bookings for May 1, as of 8:00 am on April 30. Surprisingly, even a three-screen multiplex like Sterling hadn’t opened plans for the coming week. Meanwhile, advance booking is yet to open in a full-fledged manner in cinemas like Devgn CineX Mulund, Devgn CineX Thane, Topiwala, MovieTime Malad, Tilak and Rajhans Ghatkopar. An exhibition source told Bollywood Hungama, “This is like agni pariksha for us. We need to allot shows to Raja Shivaji (releasing in Hindi and Marathi)...

‘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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