>In mid-2010, Pacino learned that his business manager, Kenneth I. Starr, had been arrested for embezzling his clients’ money in a Ponzi scheme. (Starr is currently serving seven and a half years in prison.) There had been warnings. Early on, Mike Nichols, who had taken his money out of Starr’s company, had raised suspicions. “I’ll get to it,” Pacino told Nichols. “Then I never got to it,” he said. “Millions of dollars were gone,” Sola said. “Gone.”
>Pacino took the loss in stride. “I thought, Hey, this is the world. It’s real,” he said. “Not one day I saw him down or depressed,” Sola said. “He was, like, ‘O.K., now what do we do? Roll up our sleeves and go to work.’ ”
>Pacino’s agent, John Burnham, told me, “In his halcyon days he made around fourteen million a picture, but the industry’s changed. Nowadays, he gets five million. With a gun—seven million.” It has taken Pacino four years to work himself back to a position where, he says, “compared to a normal person, I have a significant amount.” He sold a Snedens Landing property, did commercials, took out a loan, and signed on for Adam Sandler’s dismal but profitable “Jack and Jill” (2011)—a “kids’ movie,” according to Pacino, in which he sent up both his legend and his financial predicament. In the film’s best moment, a hip-hop ad for Dunkin’ Donuts, Pacino can be seen dancing and pitching the “Dunkaccino”: “You want creamy goodness / I’m your friend / Say hello to my chocolate blend.”
>Sola had persuaded Pacino to accompany her to a friend’s birthday bowling party the next day. That evening, complaining about the “fucking bowling shoes”—“I can’t stand putting on my shoes every day. Imagine putting on bowling shoes,” he said—Pacino got behind the wheel of his white Range Rover and headed for Lucky Strike, in Hollywood, which turned out to be more of a bowling den than an alley.
>A bookshelf extended from the entrance into the large underlit space; jokey signage—a poster advertising “10 Rules for Sleeping Around”—hung from the walls; from a distance, beyond the bar, came the echo of ricocheting pins. The birthday girl, Kam, in blue satin shorts and a diamanté tiara, waved Pacino and Sola over to the leather banquette where her posse of svelte girlfriends and their men were huddled. While Sola plunged into the crowd of chatty celebrants, Pacino took a barstool at a table behind them and ordered a plate of barbecued chicken. As he ate, the standup comedian Bill* Bellamy, who is credited with coining the phrase “booty call,” appeared. “We’re blessed, man,” Bellamy said. “I’m blessed. You killed in that Liberace shit, man.”
>“That was Michael Douglas,” Pacino said, wiping barbecue sauce off his fingers.
Carter Hughes
>"How do you want your haircut Mr Pacino"?
Grayson Ward
>“You want creamy goodness / I’m your friend / Say hello to my chocolate blend.”
Grayson Sanders
>"Nowadays, he gets five million. With a gun—seven million.”
Most badass thing I've read today.
Leo Young
"""""""Nice"""""""" shoop
Cameron Reed
That means if he plays a cop
Hudson Price
Hell be fine
Luis Harris
What's the source? Did he OD on opiates or something?
Christian Roberts
Or he negotiates his contracts with a loaded firearm sometimes.
Ian Barnes
>“You want creamy goodness / I’m your friend / Say hello to my chocolate blend.”
damn
this would be good satire
Dominic Kelly
I don't understand is there a point to this post?
What are you trying to say? Pacino is an aging actor, much like De Niro and that generation. They're taking shit roles for less pay but in contrast it's still a great deal more than any of us will ever see in our life?
What the fuck was your point?
Parker Adams
>What's the source?
Profile from The New Yorker a couple years back, it's a good read. He does come across as a humble guy, really committed to the craft
