TVSquad

Some actors from The Sopranos have won awards, Emmys, Golden Globes, et. al. At least one has achieved another kind of infamy. Federico Castelluccio, who played the Italian hit man Furio, has sold a painting inspired by the show for $175,000. The image, a variation on the famous 15th century dual portrait, Duke and Duchess of Urbino, is called The Duke and Duchess of North Caldwell. That would be Tony and Carmela Soprano of Caldwell, New Jersey.

Federico, who has no less that eight film roles to his credit for release this year, doesn't need to paint to pay the rent. He paints because he's an artist and -- clearly -- a good one. This original work was created after his appearance on the show. As Furio Giunta, the Italian made the mistake of becoming a wee bit too enamored with his boss's wife. Rather than stay in Jersey and potentially have an affair with Carmela, Furio returned to Italy and never came back -- as far as we know. David Chase may have a whole other story that was written and never filmed involving Furio. Chase is funny that way.

Those of you who pay attention to my posts specifically know I'm somewhat of an animation-lovin' loser, so you'll understand why I found this especially interesting. Art Lozzi, a background artists for Hanna-Barbera in the '50s and '60s for shows like The Flintstones and Yogi Bear, has contributed some of his wisdom to John "Ren and Stimpy" Kricfalusi's blog about the art and philosophy of background painting in animation. I understand many of you probably wouldn't even find this remotely interesting, so this post is really for those who are more like me and want to "look under the hood" as it were and see how all the little pieces that make up the whole product fit together. One of the great things about animation, in my opinion, is how so many pieces come together to create the finished product, and I would have to turn in my Cartoon Geek credentials if I didn't stop once in awhile to examine some of those pieces a little closer.

I love the artist Brandon Bird. Bird's illustrations, which appear regularly in The Believer magazine, and paintings are heavy on the pop culture influence. If you've visited his Webby Award-winning site, than you've probably seen his rendition of Bea Arthur wrestling an underwater dinosaur and his Cubist take on the cast of Family Ties.

Bird has used his artist's eye to interpret Seinfeld, Star Trek, Magnum P.I. and even Little House's Michael Landon. His work is always witty, but depending on the piece, it also manages to meld the contents of our mediated brains with Greek mythology, cave paintings and a Hopper-like realism.

(S01E05) "The Road Virus Heads North," from Stephen King's collection Everything's Eventual, is a pretty straightforward horror tale, especially for King. That doesn't mean it's a bad story, but it seems like the kind of spooky campfire tale that would come easily to him, and this TV adaptation moves along rather quickly, just like the story itself. The living painting that chronicles the journey of the madman within it is based on an actual painting owned by King.

Tom Berenger plays a horror novelist named Richard Kinnell who lives in Derry, Maine (the same fictional town where King's novels IT and Insomnia take place). King uses part of his story to poke fun at people who ask him the same two questions over and over: Where do you get your ideas? And do you ever scare yourself? Kinnell encounters those questions when he attends a book signing where rabid fans cheer and crowd around him as if he's a rock star rather than just a writer. He has other things on his mind however, because he just received his first colonoscopy and it's possible he has cancer. On his drive back home he stops off at a yard sale and purchases a painting of a crazy-looking driver with scraggly hair driving a car across a bridge. The painting is titled "The Road Virus Heads North" (natch) and the woman who sells it to him explains that the kid who painted it was a depressed coke-addled genius who painted several other paintings much more horrific than this one, but burned them all on the front lawn before hanging himself with a chain in the garage.

It makes perfect sense when you think about it. What is the one element missing from video games these days? Yes, exactly, it's oil painting. Do you know how much more popular Tomb Raider would have been if instead of Lara Croft you just spent the whole time painting mountains? Well, AGFRAG Entertainment is taking video games to the next level with a new game based on the paintings of Bob Ross, the poofy-haired, avuncular gentleman who lulled us all into contentment with his soothing voice and gentle instruction on the long-running PBS series The Joy of Painting. The new game will utilize the new Nintendo Revolution controller, a remote control-like controller which can be used just like a paintbrush. Gamers can also hear Ross' voice, as the developers have the rights to the audio files from the series. Alas, the game has no publisher yet, but you can submit ideas for the game to the developers here.

[via Jeff Pidgeon]

First things first. I'm deeming the links within this post as NSFW, just to be safe. There's nothing too graphic, but the images may be more objectionable to some people than others. 

If you watch cartoons, I mean really watch cartoons, it's easy to see that the minds behind these seemingly innocuous programs can be rather twisted in their own right, even if those dark impulses have to come out in decidedly G-rated ways on screen. It's not that surprising, then, that someone who worked on a kid's show like 2 Stupid Dogs would also paint something like this, or even this. Both of those paintings were done by Miles Thompson, an animator who worked on the aforementioned 2 Stupid Dogs and also created a couple Oh Yeah! Cartoons for Cartoon Network. Check out his blog and his Web site and see some of the amazing stuff a person can create when not confined to the rules of a specific medium. Of course, I would also be the first to admit that restrictions can also help creativity, but I love it when an artist is left free to do their own thing.

[via Talk to the Snail]