Game of Thrones by Martin, Benioff & Weiss

I've come rather late to the Game of Thrones party. People have been raving about this TV series, and recommending it to me, ever since it debuted in 2011. But events have conspired to prevent me watching it up until now. (Okay, I was too cheap to buy the boxed set until it turned up in a charity shop at a bargain price.)

Having watched the first couple of episodes, though, I was completely hooked. Once I'd seen the first two seasons I sincerely concluded that this is the greatest serial television drama ever made. Of course, I am an admirer of Breaking Bad, The Wire, The Shield, Rome, etc. but none of these have the epic scope of Game of Thrones.

The series has its origins in a sequence of (huge) novels collectively entitled A Song of Ice and Fire, the first of which is A Game of Thrones. They are the work of George R. R. Martin, a fantasy and horror writer whom up until now I principally knew through his riverboat-vampire novel Fevre Dream. 

George R. R. Martin has also served his time in the television trenches, writing for the 1986 revival of The Twilight Zone and doing a lot of the heavy lifting on three seasons of the series Beauty and the Beast (1987-1990). 

But Game of Thrones was developed for television ("created") by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss — known as Dave and Dan to their co-workers. Weiss has a background as a TV producer while Benioff has a number of impressive screenwriting credits on feature films, starting with Spike Lee's 25th Hour (which was also based on Benioff's novel) and the Brad Pitt epic Troy. 

Benioff and Weiss have written numerous key episodes of Game of Thrones and they're bloody good at what they do. George R. R. Martin contributes one episode per season and these are also pretty damned marvellous.

But then so is the whole show, a combination of gripping family dramas, royal court intrigues, quasi-medieval history, sword and sorcery and horror. It has a genuine sense of wonder to it. Oh yes, plus lashings of sex and nudity. 

In fact Game of Thrones became famous/infamous for "sexposition", the use of sex and nudity to keep the viewer interested while presenting exposition in dialogue. To be fair though, I don't think this was as calculated or contrived as viewers like to claim. Although it certainly works.

Game of Thrones is a masterpiece of storytelling. It scores in every department. Not just the writing, but the directing, design, photography (mostly digital, though the first version of the pilot was shot on 35mm film), makeup, costumes, sfx and music. But a special word must be said about the cast, which is uniformly spectacular, right down to the young children.

I was at a party last night where someone told me she hadn't watched Game of Thrones because she "doesn't like science fiction." Well, leaving aside the small fact that it isn't science fiction (it's fantasy, folks, there's quite a difference) there is the big fact that Game of Thrones is simply superlative drama, and utterly addictive.

Try it and you, too, will be hooked. Even if you "don't like science fiction."

(Image credits:These bits of 'wallpaper' were taken from Ace Show Biz.)

Hannibal by Thomas Harris and Bryan Fuller

The great American novelist Thomas Harris forever changed the face of crime fiction with his book Red Dragon. In it he introduced the concept (and term) serial killer, as well as the notion of a troubled police profiler who has disturbing insights into violent crimes and those who commit them. 

These tropes have become so omnipresent — indeed, tiresomely almost de rigeur — that it's strange indeed to remember that they all come from that one novel and that one (brilliant) writer. Thomas Harris has had as profound an effect on crime fiction as Hammett and Chandler (who between them invented the private eye story as we know it).
 
Perhaps not surprisingly, Harris's fortunes in terms of screen versions of his work have been mixed. Red Dragon was brought to the screen by Michael Mann, a top notch writer-director. But that adaptation didn't maintain sufficient fidelity to the original. It changed the title (to the anodyne Man Hunter) and even changed the spelling of Hannibal Lecter's name (I ask you – "Lektor"?). However the next Thomas Harris movie was Silence of the Lambs, extremely well directed by Jonathan Demme from a truly first rate script by Ted Tally, who did respect the subject matter. And it was a blockbuster.

This was followed by Hannibal directed by Ridley Scott, who managed to screw things up royally by changing the ending of Harris's book. The less said about that, the better. Then came a remake of Red Dragon, with the proper title restored and a much more faithful treatment of the book — thanks again to a script by the excellent Ted Tally. 

Finally there was the film Hannibal Rising, which I rate very highly (many would disagree); I certainly think it is superior to Harris's book — the weakest in the series. (But then Hannibal Rising was conceived as a film, and Harris wrote the script first. It only became a book later, a very thin and underpowered one, presumably because no one could dream of of missing out on the chance of a cash-in.)

When I heard that there was going to be a TV series called Hannibal, I feared the worst. But I am delighted to say I was wrong, wrong, wrong. On the evidence of the first series, Hannibal is smashingly, stupendously good.

The show is based on Red Dragon, or rather "based on the characters" in Red Dragon. We still have Hannibal Lecter, everybody's favourite cannibal psychopath, along with Will Graham the eerily insightful profiler, Jack Crawford the stalwart FBI chief, and Freddie Lounds the sleazy opportunistic tabloid journalist. But the stories weaving these characters together are fresh and new (and top-notch). 

Plus there have been some intriguing and very cool changes wrought on the characters. Graham (played by Hugh Dancy) is now on the autistic spectrum. Crawford is African American (played by an impressive Laurence Fishburne). And, most brilliantly, Lounds is now a scheming redheaded woman (the Canadian actress Lara Jean Chorostecki).

As for Lecter himself, he is played by the magnificent Mads Mikkelsen, quite recently sighted being menacing in a sausage-dog print shirt in Charlie Countryman. And the big change for his character is that, whereas Lecter was already behind bars when we first met him in Harris' novel, here he is still a free man (or monster). In fact, by a very dark irony, he is working in close collaboration with the FBI team. He's even Will Graham's shrink.

There are some flaws in the show. It specialises in fantasy and dream (or nightmare) sequences but it also specialises in grand guignol shocks. And sometimes it's difficult to tell the two apart. So when a killer's victim, whom we believe to be long dead, suddenly grabs Will Graham's arm (a swipe of a memorable scene from Andrew Kevin Walker's script for Seven) it rather spoils the impact if we initially think it's just another one of Will's waking dreams.

Also, the gruesome subject matter is just a little hard to take. Of course, a Hannibal Lecter story is going to involve some grisly murders. But the problem with a weekly show of this nature is that there's going to be one of these pretty much every episode. (They are not all, I hasten to add, committed by Hannibal — the FBI team investigates a wide range of suspects.) For me and my delicate sensibilities there is a danger that this could be a little too much. That was why I ultimately couldn't watch Law and Order: Special Victims Unit — I couldn't handle a lavish attrocity every week.

In the case of Hannibal, all this means is that it is ideal for watching an episode a time, interspersed with less intense material (Castle, please step forward) instead of box-set binge viewing.

But, when all is said and done, this is an exceptional show and, despite its subject matter, very beautiful. It is shot in amazingly stylish heightened colours — all bright red autumn leaves and blood splashes — by cinematographer James Hawkins. And there is an outstanding, churning, eerie, avant-garde music score by Brian Reitzell which I will be seeking out on CD. And possibly even vinyl.

But above all, the writing in Hannibal is superb. The series was developed for television by Bryan Fuller, who previously created Dead Like Me (on the strength of Hannibal, I've just ordered both seasons of this from Amazon). Other writers on the team include Chris Brancato, who wrote the period gangster movie Hoodlum (which also starred Laurence Fishburne) and the wonderfully named Jim Danger Gray.

Oh yes, and the episodes are named after posh cullinary terms like Apéritif, Amuse-Bouche and Potage.

Tasty. And moreish.

(Image credits: All the posters are from reliable old Imp Awards.)

Best Films of 2015

Good lord, what a great year for movies! I keep hearing people moan about the decline of cinema, but as far as I'm concerned we're going through a golden age. 

The only problem is cutting down my long list of outstanding films (39 titles) down to a reasonable size. Last year — in 2014 — I listed 14 movies, this year I think I shall allow myself the luxury of 15. This tendency could get us into serious trouble by 2099 when I'm a brain sloshing around in a jar of nutrient solution with internet access. And so are you.

So let's start by dropping the movies that just aren't going to make the cut: Max is a dog — no, not a bad film, a film about a dog. Traumatised army dog from Iraq busts a blackmarket weapons ring. Old fashioned, sentimental and soppy. I loved it. But if I included it, goodbye street cred. 

Also being dropped: Age of Adaline: It shouldn’t be good, but it is. Beautiful photography. Harrison Ford is great. Blake Lively is phenomenal. But her romantic lead… I mean WTF? The Gambler: Lovely music, terrific pace. But look at the competition!

Self/Less: Ben Kingsley becomes Ryan Reynolds. Distinctly a cut above. Excellent science fiction thriller. Just not quite...  Seventh Son: Excellent sword & sorcery thriller with a script by Steven Knight. Even Jeff Bridges’s silly accent doesn’t sink it. Great Marco Beltrami score. But see note above about street cred... Unfriended: Genuinely gripping and innovative. A really clever low budget horror movie. Some of the killings are stupid — face in blender — but it still triumphs.

Diary of a Teenage Girl: Funny and surprisingly moving. The animation was excellent. Mortdecai: An adaptation of Kyril Bonfiglioli's classic Charlie Mortdecai novels which comes close to pulling it off. Surprisingly fine fun. Johnny Depp is on the rampage in Terry-Thomas mode, but Paul Bettany is magnificent as Jock.

Tomorrow Land: Very enjoyable and clever, way better than the trailer would lead you to believe. The Visit: A startling return to form by M. Night Shyamalan. Its great virtue is that it’s funny. Focus: I really enjoyed this con-man caper. Margot Robbie is spectacular. John Wick: Another dog-centric film. A fantastic Keanu Reeves revenge thriller. Splendid ending.  

Spy: In a great year for spy movies this rollicking comedy was a near miss. Really good, really funny, and with a proper serviceable spy story as its foundation. The Last Witch Hunter: This was genuinely high quality. I was amazed. Vin Diesel, all is forgiven. Or at least some things. But, as with Max and Seventh Son, I couldn't show my face in this town again if this was one of my films of the year. Plus, there are 23 titles to ruthlessly drop. So, onwards... 

The Gift: Originally (and more accurately) titled 'Weirdo', this was written and directed by and starred Joel Edgerton. Nerd-revenge suspense movie. Goes a bit off the rails towards the end, but very gripping.

Okay, we are now definitely in it-hurts-to-lose-them territory. Paddington: A kids movie, but splendid in every regard. Birdman: Baffling yet terrific. A lot of people will be annoyed that this doesn't make the list... But a man has to do what a man has to do... Ricki and the Flash: Excellent, affecting family comedy-drama beautifully directed by Jonathan Demme. Great script by Diablo Cody — I’m ready to forgive her for Jennifer’s Body. At last. I think.

 Macbeth: Visually striking version of Shakespeare's tragedy. This one almost makes it into the top list purely on the strength of Marion Cotillard's performance. She is stunning as Lady M. If I was handing out awards for best actress, she'd win hands-down. Legend: Another landmark lead performance with a terrific Tom Hardy as both Kray twins.  Ant-Man: Very funny, zany and inventive. The leaden Marvel continuity stuff was the only dull aspect. 

Far from the Madding Crowd: Very effective remake. Carey Mulligan is truly splendid. And Matthias Schoenaerts, who played the psychotic hood in The Drop last year (another dog movie!) is again excellent. Spectre: the new Bond just misses out because it wasn't quite as good as Skyfall.

All right, wake up at the back of the classroom, we finally arrive at the top-films-of-the-year list... 

No Escape: Under this anodyne title lurks a modern classic. Owen Wilson's family is caught up in a terrorist uprising in South East Asia. Utterly gripping, incredibly suspenseful and entirely effective. Piers Brosnan is tremendous, though he’s given a rather clunky speech near the end.

Woman in Gold: Concerning the recovery of the Klimt painting stolen by the Nazis, this is really engrossing. Helen Mirren is terrific. Ryan Reynolds, so often bland, is startlingly good. Produced by Kris Thykier. 

Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation: Hands down the best film in the franchise so far. But for one rubber-mask reveal, it would have been perfect in its own Mission: Impossible way. It also has the finest soundtrack music of the year, thanks to the immensely talented Joe Kraemer.

A Most Violent Year: A tense and suspenseful Sidney Lumet-style crime pic set in 1970s New York. The awe-inspiring Oscar Isaac strikes again. Survivor: A gem of a movie: a first class, nail-biting spy thriller set in London — and vastly better than Spooks, a similar tale which came out at the same time.

The Martian has to be included because it's Ridley Scott's finest movie since his wonderful, early days. A worthy adaptation of Andy Weir's masterpiece of a novel.

Kingsman: Like I said, a great year for spy movies. This is rude, intensely violent, hilarious, and exhilarating. Knock Knock: Keanu again, as a married man victimised by hotties. Terribly powerful and distressing. Black Hat: Excellent and criminally under-rated computer-hacker thriller. Wei Tang is very touching. I loved the sequences of electrons scurrying along a microchip like rats under the floorboards.

Okay, folks, we're heading for the Top Five. But just before we get there, a tip of the hat to Bridge of Spies: Absolutely wonderful. Great script. And it's Spielberg’s best since Schindler’s List.
 
Right, into the Top Five we go, with The Salvation: A fabulous Danish Spaghetti Western shot in South Africa. Mads Mikkelsen is perfect as a Spaghetti Western hero. The photography is perhaps the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. A classic. Man from UNCLE: I loved it — one of the finest films of the year. I loved every moment of it, except for Solo’s sandwich. The bread wasn’t convincing.

Very near the top is the welcome return of the Road Warrior in  Mad Max: Fury Road: Absolutely dazzling. Charlize Theron with a shaved head, Brendan McCarthy's car designs, ravishing photography, breathtaking stunts. What's not to love?

Top Three time. Is the suspense killing you? Okay, at Number Three we have Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Apart from the rather dud title (a tradition through most of the series) this was simply majestic. I loved every minute of it.

It was a hard-fought battle for the top spot. I was seriously tempted to give the honour to Steve Jobs with its exquisite Aaron Sorkin script, fine direction from Danny Boyle and a riveting performance (in a top ensemble) by Michael Fassbender. The other day I had to chose between seeing Brooklyn for the first time and Steve Jobs for the fifth time. Guess which won?

But in the end, the title of Film of the Year goes to Sicario with its fascinating and impressive script by Taylor Sheridan, bruising, brilliant direction by Denis Villeneuve, a menacing and moody score by Jóhann Jóhannsson and a stellar cast led by the unsurpassable Emily Blunt. And fine behind-the-scenes interviews by Celeste Bronfman-Nadas. If you haven't seen Sicario, go and see it. Now.

(Image credits: all the posters are from Imp Awards.)

The Revenant by Smith & Iñárritu

A revenant is essentially a ghost and the film The Revenant tells the tale of Leonard Dicaprio as a frontiersman, Hugh Glass, who virtually returns from the dead. It is directed by Chilean prodigy Alejandro Iñárritu (who last gave us the weird, wonderful and unforgettable Birdman). And it looks to be a major critical and commercial success.

The Revenant goes on for two and half hours but it is really only about half a movie. The scant narrative badly needs some kind of major subplot to bulk it up and provide contrast, but there is none. Consequently this film just keeps hammering away at the same nail and, despite all its mayhem, becomes monotonous, dull and repetitive.

It is a tale of survival and, ultimately, revenge. But after the spectacular opening, which features a fearsomely effective battle sequence, it is clear where the movie is going and the story remains linear, predictable and finally tedious. 

There are no surprises, no variety, nothing to relieve the relentless singlemindedness. The result is a gruelling ordeal instead of an exciting adventure. After 150 minutes, the viewer is simply left weary.

This is despite an impressive cast full of fascinating faces, with Tom Hardy as a really memorably nasty villain. And Iñárritu is a director of almost crazed brilliance and originality — there's a stunning dream sequence in which Glass sees his murdered wife dying before him and her soul leaves her body in the form of a tiny bird taking wing.

There's also ravishingly beautiful location photography, mostly shot in the wilds of Canada, using only natural light and, unusually, filmed in story order. Extreme weather often made it a very tough shoot ("Every day was like a bear attack," says Iñárritu.) But the splendour of nature eventually palls. (Did I mention it's two and a half hours?) Plus there's ample animal cruelty on display — hardly surprising, given the setting and period. In this respect the movie is sort of a companion piece to In the Heart of the Sea.

I also disliked the ludicrously modern dialogue here. There's lots of this, but the thing that bugged me the most was the constant reference to the characters' weapons as "rifles". In fact, I think these are smooth bore muskets — whereas a rifle has a helical groove in the muzzle, called rifling, which improves accuracy. Anyway, the dialogue seems wrong and phony.

There's quite a lot of subtitles in the film, translating French and Pawnee, but where they are really needed is for a lot of Tom Hardy's lines in English, which are often incomprehensible, thanks to the silly accent he's affecting.

The film is based "in part" on a novel by Michael Punke, which in turn was inspired by real events (Hugh Glass did exist, had a fascinating life, and there's more than one book about him). The script is by Mark L. Smith (who wrote The Hole, directed by Joe Dante) in collaboration with Iñárritu .

But if you want to see this sort of film done right, watch Jeremiah Johnson, with a script by John Milius and Edward Anhalt. That's a properly crafted film, well written, and provides a satisfying and entertaining experience for the audience. It also actually does have rifles.

(Image credits: Surprisingly, only three posters at Imp Awards. The striking book cover is from Good Reads.)

The Force Awakens by Kasdan & Abrams and Arndt

My favourite Star Wars movie has always been The Emperor Strikes Back, largely thanks to a dazzling script by Lawrence Kasdan (based on an earlier draft by the late Leigh Brackett, a distinguished female science fiction novelist and screenwriter). 

Kasdan is also responsible for Raiders of the Lost Ark, Body Heat and Grand Canyon. It is wonderful news to report that he is back on the new Star Wars flick.

And what a flick it is. It's such a great film that I think it has actually supplanted The Empire Strikes Back in my estimation as the best of Star Wars. 

I've now seen The Force Awakens more than once, and it is particularly remarkable in that it's almost as enjoyable on repeated viewings. There is very little dip in the pleasure of watching it, despite knowing what will happen next.

I attribute this to an amazingly well crafted script in which something interesting, unexpected or gratifying is always taking place, each new scene smoothly replacing the old one. 

I guess this might also have been an attribute of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but the film I'm really reminded of is Chinatown (written by Robert Towne) in which I felt every scene was great.

Kasdan has co-written The Force Awakens with director J.J. Abrams, who has also done a wonderful job on shooting the movie. They were working from an earlier draft by Michael Arndt (Toy Story 3). And of course the characters were created by George Lucas.

Much credit must also be given to an amazingly good cast, newcomers Daisy Ridley and John Boyega in particular. It's very much to the film's credit that so much of it concerns women and black people — two kinds of human being who seemed to be virtually off George Lucas's radar.

Brit actress Daisy Ridley is especially magnificent. She comes close to carrying the movie single-handed. Which is why it's so invidious that in the flood of toys and merchandise exploiting the film, there are virtually none featuring her character Rey. Sexism is alive and well, folks. (Though business acumen seems to be stone dead — people could make a vast fortune selling Rey stuff.)

I had always defended George Lucas's three prequels (Phantom Menace and whatever the hell the other two were called — "Sith"-something and Something-or-other "Clones"). But I'm afraid those days are over. The Force Awakens is such a good movie it shows up how wretchedly mediocre those earlier efforts were.

One last thing — I am generally not a fan of 3D, but this film actually looks pretty good in that format. And it isn't even true 3D; the movie was shot in 2D and retrofitted. So, go figure...

(Image credits: All the posters are from Imp Awards where, not surprisingly, there were particularly rich pickings.)

In the Heart of the Sea by Leavitt, Jaffa & Silver

Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, thanks to their stunning work on Rise of the Planet of the Apes, are among my most admired screenwriters. 

When their scripts have been rewritten by other hands, however, the results have not always been so stellar. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes was fine, thank heavens. But elsewhere some vital spark was lost, to say the least.

Jurassic World was one such rewrite of a Jaffa & Silver script and, despite it being a huge hit, I thought it was weak and unsatisfactory. 

In the Heart of the Sea is another script of theirs which has been considerably rewritten and it's a complete stinker, so much so that I was startled to see their names come up at the end. The bulk of the writing credit (or possibly blame) goes to Charles Leavitt, who had previously done such excellent work on Blood Diamond.

In the Heart of the Sea tells the true (-ish) story of the ill-fated Nantucket whaling ship Essex, which was sunk by a sperm whale in 1820 (go, whales!). The incident provided the inspiration for Herman Melville's 1851 novel Moby Dick — you may have heard of it.

The gimmick for the movie is that the ship's adventure, if you can call it that, is framed by Melville (Ben Whishaw) hearing the story from an old salt (Brendan Gleeson) who was on the Essex when he was a kid.

The film gets in trouble immediately with an introductory voice-over by Melville talking about the "global demand" for whale oil. People in 1820 simply didn't say things like "global demand". I personally would  have used some phrase like "a thirst by all nations."

Worse is to come, though. As the Essex sets sail a priest on the dock gives a sermon where he talks about our species "evolving." No, really. Need I point out that Darwin's Origin of the Species, which introduced such concepts, wasn't published until 1859? And even then, the last place you'd be likely to find them was in the mouth of a Nantucket preacher.

But the really fundamental problem with In the Heart of the Sea is that its creators don't seem to realise that making a movie with whalers as heroes is like making one with child-killers as heroes. The audience's sympathy lies emphatically with the poor, slaughtered cetaceans.

The ships crew are a pretty unsympathetic and feebly sketched lot, anyway. Cillian Murphy's character Matthew Joy is clearly supposed to be having a battle with alcoholism, but this just gets muddled and forgotten about (and that bottle he steals — doesn't it change colour from red to blue? Continuity, please).

The conflict between the first mate Chris Hemsworth and the captain Benjamin Walker is somewhat more successful. But really the only effective thing in the movie is Gleeson's painful (and cathartic) confession of an act of cannibalism. This I attribute to the Jaffa & Silver draft of the script.

In the Heart of the Sea is a dog. A sea dog. Some nice 3D, though.

(Image credits: The movie posters are from Imp Awards, as usual.)

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

One of Steve Jobs's (many) idiosyncrasies was his fondness for talking to someone while taking a long walk with them. This makes him an ideal subject for a screenplay by Aaron Sorkin, who ever since the days of The West Wing has been famed for having his characters talk while they walk.

The Steve Jobs film with an Aaron Sorkin script and directed by Danny Boyle is one of the finest movies of the year. I enjoyed it so much, and was so fascinated by the picture of Jobs it evoked, that I sought out the biography, written by Walter Isaacson, which it was based on.

The book proved to be an addictive and compelling read, and full of surprises. I didn't know Apple created the first successful home computer and indeed, if they'd played their cards right they could have continued to dominate the market and never let IBM/Microsoft get a foothold. 

I did know that the wonderful user-friendly Macintosh interface, which changed the world, was directly derived from work already done at Xerox PARC (the Palo Alto Research Center). But Apple, driven relentlessly by Jobs, improved it enormously. The original Xerox mouse was a clumsy, complicated and expensive artefact. Jobs streamlined it brilliantly.

But Jobs was disingenuous — to say the least — to accuse Bill Gates of ripping him off when Microsoft introduced Windows (a coarse and clumsy copy of Macintosh). Gates himself was surprisingly witty on the subject: 'Well, Steve, I think there's more than one way of looking at it. I think it's more like we had this rich neighbour named Xerox and I broke into the house to steal the TV set and found that you had already stolen it."

However, this is just about the last point Gates can be said to score. It’s hilarious to read how he completely gets it wrong every time he predicts disaster after an Apple product launch and instead sees his company relentlessly ground into the dirt by each magnificent innovation from his rival: the iPod, iTunes, the iPhone, the iPad — every one  a brainchild of the fascinating, exasperating, exceptional human being who was Steve Jobs.  
In fact, 'exasperating' doesn't begin to describe it: "He refused such trappings as having a 'Reserved for CEO' spot, but he assumed for himself the right to park in the handicapped spaces."

Nevertheless, the man was a genius, not only driving the creation of some of the most stunningly designed — and effective — technological products of our time, but he also seemed to be able to anticipate the future. He correctly predicted that the iPod would be wiped out if they weren't careful: "The device that can eat our lunch is the cell phone,” he said.


So he set about conquering the cell phone market.
 
Jobs remained cantankerous right up to the end, when he was knocking on death’s door. Lying on a hospital bed “the pulmonologist tried to put a mask over his face when he was deeply sedated. Jobs ripped it off and mumbled that he hated the design and refused to wear it. Though barely able to speak, he ordered them to bring five different options for the mask and he would pick a design he liked.”

Now I want to see that movie again.
 
(Image credits: The standard cover shot with the black and white photo by Albert Watson is from Wikipedia. The variant, more smiley cover, also by Watson, is from Simon & Schuster. The Time magazine cover is from Fortune. The Norman Seef black and white head shot, used on a Rolling Stone cover, is from iPhone Savior. The front and back cover shot is from iMore.)