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Anderson Martin has taught his three daughters how to take a punch (maintain eye contact with the puncher to time the recoil), how to fall off a building (flatten your body to distribute the impact), and the proper way to get thrown into a trash can while wearing a cocktail dress and stilettos (pray you’ve sufficiently padded the bottom of the can). He has taught them how to react when they’re shot (well, with blanks), set on fire, or turned into zombies.
Last spring, Gainesville resident Angela Ivey, a part-time church administrator, was working at home when she noticed a suspicious woman walking around in her driveway. When Angela questioned her, the woman said she was a movie location scout and asked to come inside and take photos. Yeah, right, thought Angela.
In the three-plus years since they first met, Lincoln and Reedus have become close friends, which is obvious when they’re together. Both bust each other’s chops (Reedus tends to sign his bar tabs with Lincoln’s name and then send Lincoln a picture of his raised middle finger), but both are generous in their praise of the other.
This just in: evidently Atlanta is a great place to like movies. A recent study by Movoto deems Atlanta the third best place in the country for movie lovers. We’ll accept the award, even though we suspect it’s a consolation prize because this is too depressing a place to be a sports fan. Think about it. What better way to forget your crushed playoff dreams than to hide in the dark for three hours?
She may be but a wee thing, but she has big ambitions. Simmons grew up in Atlanta but moved to L.A. with her mom last summer to pursue her acting career—and it sounds like it was her idea (see “quadruple threat” aspirations below).
At some point, I suppose, it will stop being a surprise that movie folks ask Atlanta to stand in for so many other places. Odd enough that Woodruff Park was a facsimile of seventies-era NYC complete with overflowing garbage cans and yellow cabs for Anchorman 2. But today, while strolling around our neighborhood, my husband and I came across a crew hard at work constructing a faux Rhode Island streetscape on a long-vacant lot at the corner of Kirkwood Avenue and Pearl Street in Cabbagetown, about the most quintessentially Southern pocket of Atlanta you could hope for.
If you work in downtown Atlanta you know (a) it's impossible to just walk out and hail a taxi and (b) there's no such thing as a sidewalk newsstand around here.