Lolita
1962
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James B. Harris (born August 3, 1928) is an American film screenwriter, producer, and director. Born in New York City, he attended the Juilliard School [1] before entering the film industry. He worked with film director Stanley Kubrick as a producer on The Killing (1956), Paths of Glory (1957), and Lolita (1962).
- August 3, 1928 (age 95), New York City, United States
Producer: The Killing. James B. Harris was born on 3 August 1928 in New York City, New York, USA. He is a producer and writer, known for The Killing (1956), The Black Dahlia (2006) and Paths of Glory (1957).
- Producer, Writer, Director
- August 3, 1928
- 2 min
The film Lolita (1962) has long been accused of adopting too breezy a tone in its depiction of a story that involves a middle-aged professor grooming and raping his pre-teen stepdaughter. It was ...
A conversation with the cult filmmaker James B. Harris, who worked with Stanley Kubrick on The Killing, Paths of Glory, and Lolita, and directed some of his own gritty crime stories. Learn about his early life, his collaboration with Kubrick, and his own films/ Some Call it Loving, Fast-Walking, and Boiling Point.
James B. Harris (born August 3, 1928) is an American film screenwriter, producer, and director. Born in New York City, he attended the Juilliard School before entering the film industry. He worked with film director Stanley Kubrick as a producer on The Killing (1956), Paths of Glory (1957), and Lolita (1962).
James B. Harris was born on August 3, 1928 in New York City, New York, USA. He is a producer and writer, known for The Killing (1956), Paths of Glory (1957) and The Black Dahlia (2006). Family. Relatives. Amanda Joy Shapiro (Niece or Nephew) Trademarks. His film's often deal with cops and crooks, or his heroes are never black or white, but grey.
Apr 3, 2015 · Interview: James B. Harris. By Nick Pinkerton on April 3, 2015. “ [T]he sullen, impulsive films of James B. Harris have been consistently overlooked and underseen. Genuine B noirs in the purest non-reflexive sense of the word, Harris’s films are inglorious, pipe-dream-beleaguered gutterdives, with the cheap integrity of bygone pulp fiction.”.
