The Rake August 2022 - Issue 83

If Ric Flair didn’t exist, America would have to invent him, so perfectly does he embody the populist mindset of the nation. “I’m a Rolex-wearing. Diamond-ring-wearing. Kiss-stealing. Wheeling, dealing. Limousine-riding. Jet-flying son of a gun. And I’m having a hard time holding these alligators down. Wooo.” These are the immortals words, called down like cerebral lightning from the Mount Olympus of the mind, of one Richard Morgan Fliehr, better known by the name he assumed, like a mantle of glory, to entertain millions of wrestling fans the world over: Ric Flair. So perennial is his appeal, so everlasting is his legend, that this year, at the age of 73, he stepped into a ring to do battle one last time, making him the world’s oldest wrestler ever to perform in…

August is pretty terrific, isn’t it? It’s the last chance to enjoy some vacation time before September arrives, which, for many, is a kind of alternative new year, especially for those of us with children of school age. But August also marks the start of shooting season, while an entire country — Italy — basically shuts up shop, with its farmers harvesting tomatoes, potatoes and other crops for our degustation pleasure. I will be back in Bargemon, in the south of France, where, as F. Scott Fitzgerald put it, “the diffused magic of the hot, sweet south… the soft-pawed night and the ghostly wash of the Mediterranean far below” will help my stresses and strains to dissipate, and I can contemplate important things, like whether brown really should never be in…

Michael is a Floridian turned New Yorker who began his photography career in the fashion industry as an agent for models. While developing and maintaining the careers of some leading models, he had a desire to return to his lifelong ambition of capturing still and moving images. Since changing careers he has not looked back, having shot for several iconic brands, including Hugo Boss, Victoria’s Secret, Vogue and GQ. He lives in New York with his girlfriend and his badass Pomeranian called Biggie. Michael returned to The Rake to photograph Michael Shannon for our cover and accompanying story (page 80). Paul is a film and television director with credits including the groundbreaking Bridesmaids, The Heat, Spy, Last Christmas and the remarkably rakish A Simple Favour (the sequel for which has been green-lit…

In 1923, the writer and editor C.K. Scott Moncrieff produced a barbed ode called A Servile Statesman, which read, in part: Sir Philip Sassoon is a member for Hythe He is opulent, generous, swarthy and lithe The houses he inhabits are costly but chaste But Sir Philip Sassoon is unerring in taste The recipient of these lampooning lines — politician, arts patron, aviator, munificent host — might have been disappointed at the sentiment. After all, Scott Moncrieff was notable as the translator of Marcel Proust’s mammoth opus À La Recherche du Temps Perdu, and Proust was Sassoon’s favourite author; he knew a fellow voluptuary of the senses when he devoured one. But he probably wouldn’t have been surprised. Though he worked his way into the British establishment, serving on the Tory benches,…

Ismael Cruz Córdova is on a mission. For the 35-year-old, acting isn’t just an art form or a mode of self-expression but an urgent calling, a means to improve representation for generations that follow him. It’s why the Puerto Rican is so excited to see the release of the Amazon Prime series The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. Córdova plays the warrior elf Arondir, as part of a new era in the franchise in which young Afro-Latinos will be able to watch someone they identify with in these sweeping fantasy universes. “I didn’t have that growing up,” Ismael tells The Rake, “so it’s part of a legacy I want to leave behind.” Aside from blockbuster franchises, Ismael is also working with filmmakers such as Guillermo del Toro and actor…

As anyone who’s stayed in their seat for a film’s credit roll can see, it takes a village to raise a motion picture. The obsession with directors, or ‘auteurs’, over the collaborative process is deeply misleading, a product of the human mind’s unwillingness or inability to process the concept of teamwork. Among the thousand names scrolling down any screen, screenwriters are the most consistently ill-served category, but rivalling them for contribution over acclaim is the cinematographer. This makes James Wong Howe’s renown, at least in the world of cinema buffs, all the more remarkable. As a cinematographer, the man behind the cameras, he still has no equal. He enjoyed the advantage of an early start, making his way in the industry just a little after its birth, but in every other…