’What Harvey and Bob built from scratch resembled an old studio star-factory; but this time, the stars were the filmmakers. It was a gang (of New York), and like any good gang, it was dripping with street cred. Just being a part of that gang sent a message: I run with rebels.
But Miramax wasn’t just a bad-boy clubhouse, it was a 20th century Olympus: throw a can of Diet Coke and you hit a modern-day deity. And for one brief, shining moment, it was an age of magic and wonders.
I’m crushed to see it pass into history, because I owe everything I have to Miramax. Without them, I’d still be a New Jersey convenience store register jockey. In practice, not just in my head.’ —Kevin Smith (2010)Read less