From Imdb posting for Bastian Quent
Crossing to London through the chunnel, we found ourselves in the state of the art theatre in the very upscale Ham Yard Hotel, near Picadilly, waiting for the premiere of Cliffs of Freedom, based on our cousin's novel. This was for her a ten-year project. A mixture of immense pride and something akin to trepidation filled me then. For we had both started filming our cinematic projects in the last few years and finished them almost together. Knowing little of the details, I had recently seen her trailer. And been blown away. We both wrote our stories being filmed. But Marianne's had the her husband Dean as executive producer, It turns out he got very big bang for his bucks. They had embarked on a typical Hollywood path. Good taste, good sense (and perhaps a bit of help from various gods) ended with a perfect mixture. I had taken an ultra autour route dictated by my much less powerful (barely existant) finances.
The combination of director Van Ling and female lead Tania Raymonde, both film veterans, proved to be potent. My first fan letter was to Annette Funicello when I was eight, The second, to Ms. Raymonde. The fact is, she has been able to give a face and force to a powerful female figure emerging from an obscured war dominated by Byron and Missolonghi. This could become myth. The male lead Jan Uddin, was a good foil to Raymonde's intensity, and I bought the romance. We might have used more of them together, and perhaps a bit less of the bloody violence. But this is de riguer for any action film set in the midst of war. The last time I remember crying during a film was Old Yeller. Damn if I didn't well up repeatedly here. Not cheap sentiment, but well-timed story twists which appeal to our ramped emotions after we become involved with these characters. The spot-on soundtrack, composed by George Kallis, helped nail me. This powerful historical drama, with no superheros, but one kickass woman who in effect has kicked our fascination with Lord Byron's tragic illness at a remote Greek outpost to the curb. Let the ladies show you how it is done.
Crossing to London through the chunnel, we found ourselves in the state of the art theatre in the very upscale Ham Yard Hotel, near Picadilly, waiting for the premiere of Cliffs of Freedom, based on our cousin's novel. This was for her a ten-year project. A mixture of immense pride and something akin to trepidation filled me then. For we had both started filming our cinematic projects in the last few years and finished them almost together. Knowing little of the details, I had recently seen her trailer. And been blown away. We both wrote our stories being filmed. But Marianne's had the her husband Dean as executive producer, It turns out he got very big bang for his bucks. They had embarked on a typical Hollywood path. Good taste, good sense (and perhaps a bit of help from various gods) ended with a perfect mixture. I had taken an ultra autour route dictated by my much less powerful (barely existant) finances.
The combination of director Van Ling and female lead Tania Raymonde, both film veterans, proved to be potent. My first fan letter was to Annette Funicello when I was eight, The second, to Ms. Raymonde. The fact is, she has been able to give a face and force to a powerful female figure emerging from an obscured war dominated by Byron and Missolonghi. This could become myth. The male lead Jan Uddin, was a good foil to Raymonde's intensity, and I bought the romance. We might have used more of them together, and perhaps a bit less of the bloody violence. But this is de riguer for any action film set in the midst of war. The last time I remember crying during a film was Old Yeller. Damn if I didn't well up repeatedly here. Not cheap sentiment, but well-timed story twists which appeal to our ramped emotions after we become involved with these characters. The spot-on soundtrack, composed by George Kallis, helped nail me. This powerful historical drama, with no superheros, but one kickass woman who in effect has kicked our fascination with Lord Byron's tragic illness at a remote Greek outpost to the curb. Let the ladies show you how it is done.