Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer - Twitter Profile

Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

about 24 hours ago

@filmstofilms_ Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny!

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Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

2 days ago

@ICEMANOUTLINE @SepzenoOfficial Me too! 1- Superman: The Movie 2- Superman II 3- Superman

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Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

2 days ago

@SepzenoOfficial No, but it’s great. And I say that as a huge fan of the character. It was very well done and I loved it, but it’s not a masterpiece the way Superman: The Movie is a masterpiece.

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Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

2 days ago

@ewarren

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Who to follow

Crown & Anchor Comics

@crownanchorcmcs

Comic book and comic magazine collector. Enthusiast of all things fantasy, horror and science fiction.

Ed Moore Jr

@Miscatonic

Co-host Superman Super Show and contributor to Magazines and Monsters.

DANIEL CHABON

@NotTooChaby

@DarkHorseComics Executive Editor BLACK HAMMER, JINXWORLD, TINY ONION, #UMBRELLAACADEMY, THE GOON, HELEN OF WYNDHORN, MINOR THREATS, FML

Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

2 days ago

@philhester Yep. Yep. And yep.

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Jeff_Dyer retweeted

Deadline

@DEADLINE

3 days ago

Russell Crowe talks pushing back on studio pressure for sex scenes in Ridley Scott’s ‘Gladiator’ and says ‘Gladiator II’ failed to ignite audiences in the same way as the original film because it lacked a “moral core” - Taormina Film Festival

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Jeff_Dyer retweeted

Crazy Vibes

@CrazyVibes_1

4 days ago

Weeks into filming The Breakfast Club, John Hughes made a decision: Judd Nelson had to go. It wasn't a passing frustration. Molly Ringwald later described Hughes as angrier than she had ever seen him — not the managed tension of a director having a rough day, but something final. Something absolute. The set went still. Everyone understood what it meant. Nelson had arrived with a commitment that made people uncomfortable. Trained in the method tradition at the Stella Adler Conservatory, he had decided before shooting began that he would never step out of character. Not between takes. Not at lunch. Not for anyone. The character was John Bender — hostile, wounded, probing for weakness in everyone around him, turning every room into a test of who would break first. Staying in that character continuously meant staying sharp and needling and unpredictable. The set, much of the time, felt like the library in the film. His primary target was Ringwald. She later said she understood. She could see the method behind the provocation — that the discomfort Nelson created between takes was the same discomfort that made their scenes together feel raw instead of rehearsed. She was a professional. She recognized a professional working. Hughes did not see it that way. When he said he wanted Nelson removed, the cast faced a quiet crisis. Bender wasn't a supporting role. He was the engine — the force pushing every other character toward the truth the whole film was built around. Recasting weeks in, with the chemistry already forming, wasn't a minor adjustment. It was a potential collapse. So they walked in together. Ringwald went first — the person Nelson had been targeting, the one whose discomfort had set everything off. Ally Sheedy went. Anthony Michael Hall went. Emilio Estevez went. They told Hughes that what looked like provocation was commitment. That the discomfort was the point. That Bender was working because Nelson was working. Paul Gleason — the veteran playing Principal Vernon, a man who had spent a career learning to tell the difference between someone causing problems and someone solving them unusually — added his voice. Nelson deserved to finish. Hughes listened. He changed his mind. Nelson stayed. He fought for every corner of the character — including the scene where Bender describes his father burning him with a cigar. Hughes wanted the cruelty to read as careless, accidental. Nelson pushed back hard. He had built this character from the inside, and the inside required deliberate damage — a father who chose to hurt his son, because only that specific intentional cruelty could explain the specific intentional damage Bender aimed at everyone around him. He won that argument too. The scene plays exactly as Nelson wanted it. Bender describes his father with the flat affect of someone who processed horror by draining all the feeling out of it. The emptiness is more disturbing than anger would have been. Roger Ebert, reviewing the film on its release in February 1985, called Bender the strong center of the movie. The Breakfast Club cost around a million dollars to make. It earned fifty-one million. It became one of the defining films of a generation — not as a time capsule, but as something that kept finding new audiences for decades, because what it said about identity, and the gap between who we appear to be and who we actually are, was true enough to stay true. Nelson said afterward that Hughes was one of the only directors he ever worked with who genuinely wanted collaboration — who would hear a better argument and change his position. Working with others later made him understand how rare that was. He also said, simply, that he never wanted to be difficult. He just didn't want to fail the character. He didn't fail him. But the Bender that ended up on screen — the one generations of teenagers recognized as the most honest portrait of a certain kind of hurt they had never seen named before — exists because four young actors walked into a hard conversation with their director and asked him to give a fifth one more time. A film about strangers choosing to protect each other was saved by strangers choosing to protect each other. *That's either a coincidence. Or it was always the only way it could have worked.

CrazyVibes_1's tweet photo. Weeks into filming The Breakfast Club, John Hughes made a decision: Judd Nelson had to go.

It wasn't a passing frustration. Molly Ringwald later described Hughes as angrier than she had ever seen him — not the managed tension of a director having a rough day, but something final. Something absolute. The set went still. Everyone understood what it meant.

Nelson had arrived with a commitment that made people uncomfortable. Trained in the method tradition at the Stella Adler Conservatory, he had decided before shooting began that he would never step out of character. Not between takes. Not at lunch. Not for anyone.

The character was John Bender — hostile, wounded, probing for weakness in everyone around him, turning every room into a test of who would break first. Staying in that character continuously meant staying sharp and needling and unpredictable. The set, much of the time, felt like the library in the film.

His primary target was Ringwald.

She later said she understood. She could see the method behind the provocation — that the discomfort Nelson created between takes was the same discomfort that made their scenes together feel raw instead of rehearsed. She was a professional. She recognized a professional working.

Hughes did not see it that way.

When he said he wanted Nelson removed, the cast faced a quiet crisis. Bender wasn't a supporting role. He was the engine — the force pushing every other character toward the truth the whole film was built around. Recasting weeks in, with the chemistry already forming, wasn't a minor adjustment. It was a potential collapse.

So they walked in together.

Ringwald went first — the person Nelson had been targeting, the one whose discomfort had set everything off. Ally Sheedy went. Anthony Michael Hall went. Emilio Estevez went. They told Hughes that what looked like provocation was commitment. That the discomfort was the point. That Bender was working because Nelson was working.

Paul Gleason — the veteran playing Principal Vernon, a man who had spent a career learning to tell the difference between someone causing problems and someone solving them unusually — added his voice. Nelson deserved to finish.

Hughes listened. He changed his mind.

Nelson stayed. He fought for every corner of the character — including the scene where Bender describes his father burning him with a cigar. Hughes wanted the cruelty to read as careless, accidental. Nelson pushed back hard. He had built this character from the inside, and the inside required deliberate damage — a father who chose to hurt his son, because only that specific intentional cruelty could explain the specific intentional damage Bender aimed at everyone around him.

He won that argument too.

The scene plays exactly as Nelson wanted it. Bender describes his father with the flat affect of someone who processed horror by draining all the feeling out of it. The emptiness is more disturbing than anger would have been. Roger Ebert, reviewing the film on its release in February 1985, called Bender the strong center of the movie.

The Breakfast Club cost around a million dollars to make. It earned fifty-one million. It became one of the defining films of a generation — not as a time capsule, but as something that kept finding new audiences for decades, because what it said about identity, and the gap between who we appear to be and who we actually are, was true enough to stay true.

Nelson said afterward that Hughes was one of the only directors he ever worked with who genuinely wanted collaboration — who would hear a better argument and change his position. Working with others later made him understand how rare that was.

He also said, simply, that he never wanted to be difficult. He just didn't want to fail the character.

He didn't fail him.

But the Bender that ended up on screen — the one generations of teenagers recognized as the most honest portrait of a certain kind of hurt they had never seen named before — exists because four young actors walked into a hard conversation with their director and asked him to give a fifth one more time.

A film about strangers choosing to protect each other was saved by strangers choosing to protect each other.

*That's either a coincidence. Or it was always the only way it could have worked.

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Jeff Dyer @Jeff_Dyer

4 days ago

New @FrankMillerInk art is always cause for celebration. I really dig his new Dark Knight variant covers. Thanks, Frank! I’m grateful for your work…old and new.

Jeff_Dyer's tweet photo. New @FrankMillerInk art is always cause for celebration. I really dig his new Dark Knight variant covers. Thanks, Frank! I’m grateful for your work…old and new. https://t.co/GONJriohn6

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Jeff_Dyer retweeted

Tim Allen

@ofctimallen

4 days ago

I'm overwhelmed at the response I had at the premiere of Toy Story 5, watching 3 to 4 generations of "kids" (now adults too) and their reaction to the film. I'm humbled and amazed and it brings me such joy to be apart of the Toy Story franchise. I can't wait for you all to see this one too. To Infinity.... and beyond! #toystory5 #toystory @Pixar @toystory

ofctimallen's tweet photo. I'm overwhelmed at the response I had at the premiere of Toy Story 5, watching 3 to 4 generations of "kids" (now adults too) and their reaction to the film. I'm humbled and amazed and it brings me such joy to be apart of the Toy Story franchise. I can't wait for you all to see this one too. To Infinity.... and beyond! #toystory5 #toystory @Pixar @toystory

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Jeff_Dyer retweeted

Bruce Crawford @BruceCrawford

4 days ago

No spoilers: On Raiders of the Lost Ark’s 45th Anniv.-for better or worse, I’m grateful that Steven Spielberg & John Williams are still making films together.🎞️👏♥️ Emily Blunt’s performance was🔥! Love him for this…✊ Spielberg: “I’m done with aliens.”👽🛸❌ Also Spielberg: