《Details》09年5月封面:Eric Bana by Steven Klein
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分类: 男主角 |
http://www2.tx8.cn/photo/lianxing/2009511212812837.jpgBana
美国男性时尚杂志《Details》五月刊封面请来前任“绿巨人”Eric Bana,由摄影大师Steven Klein掌镜,拍摄了这组大片和封面。由于《Star Trek》电影的上映(5月9日),三位男主角都登上了美国主流杂志的封面,不过最喜欢的,还是Eric Bana的这个。
http://www2.tx8.cn/photo/lianxing/2009511212813207.jpgBana
Sanjiv Bhattacharya对他进行了采访,具体文章随后附上。
http://www2.tx8.cn/photo/lianxing/2009511212813121.jpgBana
图片:《Details》2009年5月刊
摄影师:Steven Klein
附文:
ERIC BANA MAKES CAPTAIN KIRK HIS BITCH
The Australian actor played a conflicted beast in Hulk and a troubled assassin in Munich. Now the antihero from Down Under channels pure evil as Star Trek's new villain
But the best thing about Melbourne is that it's far enough away
that sometimes he actually forgets that he is, in fact, Eric Bana,
Movie Star. So the leading man from Troy, Black Hawk
Down, Munich, Hulk, The Other Boleyn Girl, and
now Star Trek can kid himself, in brief, blissful moments,
that he's just this regular Joe with a wife and two kids and a big
black poodle named Mario. But these moments are fleeting, even in
his favorite Italian restaurant.
"Ereek!" The owner, Gino, fusses over Bana, lapsing into
Italian as he leads us through the little family-run establishment.
Some of the other diners turn to stare. He might like to think of
himself as just another Melbournian, but here he's Eric Bana.
SOMETHING HAPPENED TO BANA when Hollywood
called. He was a successful Australian comedian who'd spent five
years doing stand-up before landing his own TV show, Eric.
Then, in 2000, his searing performance as the blaring psycho Mark
Read in Chopper demonstrated a raw talent at full tilt—and
offered him a ticket to the movie major leagues. But no sooner had
he burst through Hollywood's gilded doors than he steadied himself
and began a run of characters who were defined by their inability
to emote: the hawkeyed hard case Hoot in Black Hawk Down;
Avner the conscience-stricken assassin in Munich; the
conflicted scientist in Ang Lee's Hulk; Hector in
Troy, the warrior trying to avoid war. In these roles Bana
glowered, his eyes dark, wrestling with some inner dilemma.
The old Bana does reveal himself occasionally: At Aussie Rules
football games, for example, Bana screams himself hoarse. In his
comedy-club days, he had to stop going to contests on the night
before a gig, because he wouldn't have a voice the next day. But
now, for the most part, he's thoughtful, earnest, and a little
serious. And he's sincere about wanting to show me around
Melbourne. On finding out how far I've come, how limited my time
is, and that this is my first visit to Australia, he chews
pensively, calculating an itinerary.
It's hard not to fall in love with Melbourne. The city is a
gleaming, sun-kissed hive of smiling, bronzed people, a world in
which all the girls are blond and jogging or Rollerblading along a
riverbank as rowboats glide past.
We leave Gino's and cruise the length of Chapel Street, "which is
kind of like Melrose in L.A.," according to Bana, then skirt the
ritzy shopping district. Windows down, radio off—only the sound of
two men chewing Dentyne accompanies Bana's commentary.
We stop at a park and watch some ducks being fed. It seems a little
sedate for Hector of Troy. But the ducks aren't the draw for Bana.
"It's a Formula One track. There's a race in three weeks'
time."
He never planned on being Eric Bana the actor, or the comedian, for
that matter. What he really wants is to be Mario Andretti. Between
shooting movies, Bana can be found "fart-arsing around with my car,
getting ready for a race." Although he has more than one, his
favorite car is a fire-engine-red '74 XB Falcon coupe that he calls
the Beast. He's had it since he was 15.
"Three of my closest friends—our relationship has been maintained
because we've always worked on this car," he says. "The car has
transcended itself. It has become a campfire."
But one day, during the Targa Tasmania rally in April 2007, he
crashed into a tree. "I totaled it. After a two-year restoration,
everything handmade. Oh, it hurt—yeah. Absolutely."
He falls silent for a moment, still mourning the Beast. We exit the
F1 track and stop at a light. The Temptations' "My Girl" drifts
from the car next to us. "It's a bashed-up thing in the corner of
the workshop," he says. "It's sitting there, not being used, but
it's still my emotional bedrock, my anchor." The Beast represents
Bana's memories, good and bad, and he wants to preserve them, just
as his father did before him. A Croatian named Banadinovich who
worked for Caterpillar, he came to Australia at the age of 16 and
kept a Thunderbird—also fire-engine-red—for 35 years. Bana's urge
to preserve the past goes beyond the Beast. He prefers local stores
to malls, for instance. "You want a piece of meat, you go to the
butcher. You want a coffee, you go to the café which is not a
chain," he says.
We drive and drive: past the fancy houses to the rough areas, past
the railway station where Bana used to wait on the steps for his
first girlfriend, and past his old school, where he says he once
showed up drunk—prompting his mom to ground him for six months.
"Yeah, I went through a little phase there. But I did a lot better
than some of the guys I hung with, who have ended up dead or in
jail," he says. Bana wasn't a star student: He had to repeat a year
of high school. "It wasn't like I was busting to get into
NASA or anything," he says.

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