The Big Shoot
Exclusive footage from the making of Killers Kill, Dead Men Die (created by Annie Leibovitz and Michael Roberts), the most ambitious portfolio in the 13-year history of Vanity Fair’s Hollywood Issue. With a star corpse, and suspects ranging from Helen Mirren to Forest Whitaker, it’s a film noir masterpiece to die for.
An undeniable film noir classic. Every element of the genre is here: The Femme Fatale, sultry, scheming, and doped up on tranquilizers; The Private Dick, crawling through the gutter in search of a diamond garter; The Chanteuse and The Champ; The Doll and The Aristocrat; The Spy who knows too little and The Moll who knows too much; mistaken identity and double indemnity; high life and low society; shocking—though possibly nonsensical—plot turns; despair, lust, blood violence, and the cruel fist of fate. Finally, lurking in the shadows behind all this is the menacing figure of The Killer. And what does he do? Why, he does what all killers do: he kills.
THE CRIME SCENE. EXT. SUNSET & VERDUGO-NIGHT- RAIN
On a hard bed of wet L.A. pavement, Oscar (Bruce Willis) has begun his eternal rest. Sweet dreams, detective. Someone has seen fit to tip off shutterbug Sam Brady (James McAvoy), formerly of The Sun, lately of Confidential. The doll with the .44 (Kirsten Dunst) appears to be none other than Laura Lydeker, an heiress whose father owns half the lemon trees in the state of California and whose mother owns the other half. Laura says she has no idea how she ended up here with a pistol in her hand. “I’ve never been fond of guns,” she tells the police. “They make an awful racket.”
The ladies of LA Int. Powder Room Snyders Restaurant – Night.
Socialite Eve Greeley-Waddington (Anjelica Huston) finds it amusing, but not surprising, that the Lydeker name has arisen in connection with the murder of a low-life shamus. “Lemons grow on trees,” she says, alluding to the Lydeker-family business. “Reputations, decidedly, do not.” Estelle Willisford (Sharon Stone), of the department-store Willisfords, could not agree more, once she’s through applying lip paint. And if Ethel Barringsley (Diane Lane) seems less than enthralled by the topic at hand, she probably has her reasons—and damned interesting ones, at that.