Words cannot describe the feelings. Yo-Yo Ma plays a traditional Japanese song that we all know. The music speaks for our heartbreak and our prayers:
Saturday, March 12, 2011
We Mourn With Japan
Words cannot describe the feelings. Yo-Yo Ma plays a traditional Japanese song that we all know. The music speaks for our heartbreak and our prayers:
Monday, March 7, 2011
The BOSS in movies - No, Not Springsteen
Which boss would you prefer?
I was talking to my boss this morning, and I began thinking about the portrayal of employers in movies. They come in all shapes and sizes, some rotten, some wonderful – I must admit that the rotten ones are more fun. These are some of my favorites, good and bad, usually in the same movie. I will paraphrase Frankenstein’s monster in describing my choices: “Boss bad!” “Boss good!”
Boss Bad: Lionel Barrymore as Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946). Talk about a mean old man! Devious, grasping, practically sociopathic in his indifference to fellow human beings, Mr. Potter will always be remembered as one employer for which nobody wants to work. To add to the mix, he doesn’t even have an epiphany at the end of the movie and show some redeeming quality!
Boss Good: James Stewart as George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life.” George and Mr. Potter could not be further apart on the boss scale. George cares about his employees, his clients, and is a great husband and father to boot. Justice and kindness are the characteristics which best describe him. I’d be his secretary any day!

Boss Bad: Everett Sloane as Walter Ramsey in Rod Serling’s Patterns (1956). Sometimes he even looks like the devil in this movie. He has an iron fist which he does not hesitate to use on his employees. In his quest for better business, he is determined to weed out the weakest of the high-ups in his company. It does not matter to him if they have been there for 40 years, if they display fine and decent personal qualities, or if they have desperate need for their jobs. He is interested only in the bottom line.
Boss Good: Van Heflin as Fred Staples in Patterns. Although just a good plant manager and not yet an executive, Fred is being groomed for a position at the top. He does have ambition, but cannot stand Ramsey, and is agonized over the thought of displacing one of the men targeted for replacement. However, when the plan becomes inevitable, Fred shows some hardness of his own in letting Ramsey know just what he thinks of him, and how Fred will do the job his own way, no matter how much he has to fight for it. It is obvious that Fred will be an exacting but just man as an executive.
Boss Bad: Dabney Coleman as Franklin Hart in Nine to Five (1980). Who could forget this slimy little toad enjoying his power with over-worked and under-paid employees? Demanding coffee, leering at his secretary, kissing up to the company’s big boys, and stealing a great idea from one of his “girls” are just some of the characteristics that cause his eventual and hilarious downfall, and made theatre audiences applaud with glee.
Boss Good: Lily Tomlin as Violet Newstead, Dolly Parton as Doralee Rhodes and Jane Fonda as Judy Bernly in Nine to Five. Although perhaps not technically bosses, these three women gave Franklin Hart his due (which included what they thought was accidental poisoning, kidnapping, holding him hostage, and being responsible for his relocation to a company branch in South America). At the end of the movie, they were moving up the ranks, and you knew they would make great bosses!
Boss Bad: Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone in The Godfather (1972). If you know what’s good for you, you will fetch coffee and balance his checkbook with a smile. He is quiet, dignified, and would squash you like a cockroach. So, if you aspire to a job that requires absolute loyalty, unquestioning obedience, lots of hand-kissing, and includes bumping-off the competition, Vito is the man for you.
Boss Good: No one comes to mind...
And now for my personal choice in both categories, one who is even worse than the Godfather, and another you can't help but love:
Boss Bad: George C. Scott as Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol (1984). Scrooge does not have to beat up or kill his lone employee, poor Bob Cratchitt. He just beats him down every day with insults, harshness, low pay, and he won’t even let him put one piece of coal on the fire. Working with Scrooge has to be the worst job ever. Of course Scrooge is not happy with all his money, doesn’t even make himself comfortable, but he is so nasty to Bob that it is impossible to feel sympathy for Scrooge’s psychological problems. Good heavens, the man doesn’t even feel bad for crippled Tiny Tim, standing at the corner with his cane, in the bitter cold, waiting for his father to leave work. Scrooge doesn’t even invite the boy to wait inside with his dad, telling him “Well, you’ll have a long wait then, won’t you?” It wouldn’t be much warmer inside I suppose, but what a heartless …. heartless ….. I can’t think of a word suitable for my readers. Just use your own imagination.
Boss Good: Timothy Bateson as Mr. Fezziwigg in A Christmas Carol. Scrooge didn’t learn a thing from this dear little man. Fezziwigg ran a good business, his employees worked fair hours, and he loved to make them laugh and enjoy life. Christmas Eve to him was not just another workday, but a time to close up shop, feed his people with good food and drink, and make merry with music and dancing. Even Scrooge felt compelled to defend him to the needling questions of the Ghost of Christmas Past, saying that Fezziwigg was not silly, but a good employer who did things that made people love him, "just little things". Scrooge’s memory of Mr. Fezziwigg was the first time you could see his evolution from a bad boss to a good one.
As for me, I've had good bosses and bad, one like Walter Ramsey, a couple just like Franklin Hart...but I have Boss Good now. I feel safe in saying this without sounding like I'm looking for a raise, because she doesn't really follow my blog, I don't mind -- she is a busy, full-time doctor, wife, and mother of 4 very young children. Her free time at this point in her life is ... well, rare to non-existent! I've been with her for 11 years, and don't plan to leave until I drop dead or she kicks me out (or if I win the lottery). So Dr. C you are in the Really Good category.
How about you? Do you have any favorite movie bosses, bad, good or both?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Oscar Hosts Franco and Hathaway? Big Mistake!
Just a short, personal opinion about the Oscar hosts tonight -- PU !!
There have been bad hosts before, wonderful comics who didn't come across, favorite personalities who couldn't hack it -- but James Franco and Anne Hathaway will remain in my memory as the worst to date. I'm not going to try to speak to everyone who ever hosted, but I remember being particularly disappointed in Chevy Chase and David Letterman. I like both of them very much, but they weren't at all successful in their attempts to host the Oscars.Anne is cute, but she had to bring up her nude scenes. Not classy. Aside from that, she did an adequate job that might have been better if she had been partnered with a charismatic man who had some personality. Franco looked like he had been smoking weed all day. He made at least two rude and crude remarks, one that made me angry and one that made me wince. I was really mad at his remark about the technical awards. He said "Congratulations, nerds." I guess he thought that was funny. Other people seemed to think so too. It struck me as insulting to the incredible people who make it possible to make movies at all, and contribute so much effort to make a smart-aleck like Franco into a movie actor. I hope some of the technicians make a concerted effort to make him look bad in his next movie. They easily could, you know. Too bad Franco doesn't seem to know.
The supposedly humorous remarks that made me wince were about how offensive he thought the movie titles were this year. Winter's Bone (tee hee), How To Train Your Dragon (that's a reach), anything sexual he could come up with. It was juvenile and gross to say such things to however many million people were watching, and it just made him offensive as far as I'm concerned. Real loser material.
I thought back to hosts that I think were the best in the Oscar host business. My very favorite was always Bob Hope. He was simply perfect. Johnny Carson was a wonderful host, and I always hoped that Billy Crystal would continue as a long-time host like Hope. Hugh Jackman was good as host and I don't know why he was not asked back. These men were funny, dignified, able to make everyone laugh without being openly crude in any way, and to me they were the best. I fervently hope the Academy learns something from this year's fiasco and starts showing some class. I miss that. I think many people do.Thursday, February 24, 2011
1963 Best Actress Blogathon -- Patricia Neal in Hud
Patricia Neal was a woman whose career was marked by a diversity of movie roles as well as illness and tragedy in her personal life. As an actress, she was wonderful. As a person, she was strong and resilient. She is remembered for her beauty, her infamous affair with the married Gary Cooper, her marriage to author Roald Dahl, two beloved children who died under tragic circumstances, and the terrible series of strokes in a period of hours while she was pregnant. Pat Neal was left severely debilitated by these cerebral aneurysms, and had to fight her way back to learning to talk and walk. Her baby was born healthy, and Pat won her fight back to health.
Hud has many women in his little black book, but he is attracted to Alma, partly because she rejects his advances, and his ego cannot accept that. He is rude and crude to Alma, but she takes it in her stride. It’s very difficult to explain Pat Neal’s abilities in this role because so many of them are in her delivery, her reactions and body language, but a few scenes give a good example of the treatment she receives from Hud and her refusal to give in to him.
In one scene, Hud is getting ready to go out on the town and wants a clean shirt:
“Alma, get me a clean white shirt!”
“Boy, you’re really big with the please and thank you, aren’t you?”
“Please get off your lazy butt and get me a clean white shirt, thank you!”
In another scene, Hud visits Alma in her little detached cabin and tries his alleged charm on her:
“You’re a good cook, a good laundress, good housekeeper – what else you good at?”
“Taking care of myself.”
Alma’s contemptuous reactions to Hud are tempered with her own reluctant attraction to him, which she does not allow him to see. She is a lonely woman, with needs that the ultra sexual Hud could satisfy, but Alma is well aware of his casual cruelty to women. The other members of the household are like family to Alma. The father, an old man of high principles, for whom she has great affection, and the young nephew (played by Brandon deWilde) who loves Alma with the confused feelings of a teenage boy becoming a man – with these, Alma is happy and contented. Hud can easily destroy this and Alma knows it.
I don’t like to reveal too much about a movie like Hud by telling the story beginning to end. It is easily accessible on cable, Netflix, rental outlets, even Youtube. Anyone who would like to see it deserves to see it for themselves without spoilers. It is of course much more than the story of Alma, and a truly great movie.
Because Pat's performance relies so much on delivery and reaction, I thought it would be a good idea to give you one of the best examples of Pat Neal’s portrayal of Alma in a short portion of the movie I found on Youtube. To see just the scene between Alma and Hud, fast forward to about 3:26. It is funny and sad, and shows much of the reason for Pat’s well-deserved award as Best Actress.
Pat’s breakthrough role was in 1949’s The Fountainhead which starred Gary Cooper. She was 23 years old and Hollywood-gorgeous. She did many films, and is probably best remembered for The Fountainhead, the science fiction classic The Day the Earth Stood Still, and her Academy Award winning performance in Hud.

Her role as Alma Brown, a cook and housekeeper for a rancher and his sons, was relatively small but powerful enough to bring her acclaim as Best Actress of 1963. She was 37 at the time, still strikingly attractive, but the role of the world-weary Alma, speaking in a Texas drawl, no make-up or hair styling, a woman who had been kicked around a lot by life and men, was played by her to perfection. Hud was supposed to be only Paul Newman’s movie, in which he was at his most handsome, playing a charming but brutal and callous man. He did so beautifully, and was nominated for Best Actor (but lost to Sidney Poitier in Lilies of the Field). However, Pat Neal stole every scene in which she appeared, not an easy task since she was also working with veteran actor Melvyn Douglas as Hud’s father, a role for which he won Best Supporting Actor.

Her role as Alma Brown, a cook and housekeeper for a rancher and his sons, was relatively small but powerful enough to bring her acclaim as Best Actress of 1963. She was 37 at the time, still strikingly attractive, but the role of the world-weary Alma, speaking in a Texas drawl, no make-up or hair styling, a woman who had been kicked around a lot by life and men, was played by her to perfection. Hud was supposed to be only Paul Newman’s movie, in which he was at his most handsome, playing a charming but brutal and callous man. He did so beautifully, and was nominated for Best Actor (but lost to Sidney Poitier in Lilies of the Field). However, Pat Neal stole every scene in which she appeared, not an easy task since she was also working with veteran actor Melvyn Douglas as Hud’s father, a role for which he won Best Supporting Actor.
Hud has many women in his little black book, but he is attracted to Alma, partly because she rejects his advances, and his ego cannot accept that. He is rude and crude to Alma, but she takes it in her stride. It’s very difficult to explain Pat Neal’s abilities in this role because so many of them are in her delivery, her reactions and body language, but a few scenes give a good example of the treatment she receives from Hud and her refusal to give in to him.
In one scene, Hud is getting ready to go out on the town and wants a clean shirt:
“Alma, get me a clean white shirt!”
“Boy, you’re really big with the please and thank you, aren’t you?”
“Please get off your lazy butt and get me a clean white shirt, thank you!”
In another scene, Hud visits Alma in her little detached cabin and tries his alleged charm on her:
“You’re a good cook, a good laundress, good housekeeper – what else you good at?”
“Taking care of myself.”
Alma’s contemptuous reactions to Hud are tempered with her own reluctant attraction to him, which she does not allow him to see. She is a lonely woman, with needs that the ultra sexual Hud could satisfy, but Alma is well aware of his casual cruelty to women. The other members of the household are like family to Alma. The father, an old man of high principles, for whom she has great affection, and the young nephew (played by Brandon deWilde) who loves Alma with the confused feelings of a teenage boy becoming a man – with these, Alma is happy and contented. Hud can easily destroy this and Alma knows it.
I don’t like to reveal too much about a movie like Hud by telling the story beginning to end. It is easily accessible on cable, Netflix, rental outlets, even Youtube. Anyone who would like to see it deserves to see it for themselves without spoilers. It is of course much more than the story of Alma, and a truly great movie.
Because Pat's performance relies so much on delivery and reaction, I thought it would be a good idea to give you one of the best examples of Pat Neal’s portrayal of Alma in a short portion of the movie I found on Youtube. To see just the scene between Alma and Hud, fast forward to about 3:26. It is funny and sad, and shows much of the reason for Pat’s well-deserved award as Best Actress.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Return of the Firebird -- Blazing with Beauty
Movie musicals come in many forms -- Rodgers and Hammerstein's The Sound of Music, the great fun of the Golddigger musicals of the 1930's, the famed MGM musicals of the 1940's and 50's -- but there are other musical movies as well. I would like to share one with three definite stories performed in ballet. Return of the Firebird presents, as separate movies, Igor Stravinsky's The Firebird, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade, and Stravinsky's Petrouchka. In a review I wrote in May, 2010, I discussed the issue of watching movies about ballet vs. watching ballet itself. Some may believe ballet is something to be avoided or endured rather than a form of great entertainment. However, Return of the Firebird, filmed at Russia's Mosfilm Studios, starring and directed by famed Mariinsky ballet star Andris Liepa, may just change your mind if you have never thought you would enjoy this art form. Liepa was determined to present the three ballets as movies, similar to silent movies in which the story is told in music, movement and gesture. He did not want typical straight-view stage performances. As a result, the ballets are filled with beautiful special effects, camera work that focuses clearly and perfectly on the dancing, close-ups and designs, and even as a ballet lover, I have never seen anything close to this type of presentation, barring only the ballet sequence from The Red Shoes.
With all of those elements of incredible talent working at the same time, the three ballets of the Les Saisons Russes are lush with great music, eye-popping set designs, marvelous camera work, and costumes re-created in all of their glorious and bejeweled Russian splendor. Director and ballet star Andris Liepa performs in the three pieces. His wife Ekaterina Liepa and his sister Ilze Liepa complete the famous family of dancers in this production. In addition, the incredible talents of Nina Ananiashvili as the Firebird and Victor Yeremenko as the Golden Slave in Scheherazade raise the level of these performances to the Mount Everest of ballet
Scheherazade is one of my favorite pieces of music, heartbreakingly beautiful and dramatic. The storyline is set in a Sultan’s harem, full of sex, betrayal, adultery, rage and slaughter. What more could you ask for? Ilze Liepa, who plays the Sultan’s courtesan, is a marvel of sensuality and prima ballerina perfection. Victor Yeremenko as her forbidden love, the Golden Slave, is one of the best male dancers I have seen. Besides the obvious leaps and twirls expected of them, one mark of a great male dancer is his ability to come out of those incredible moves and be able to stop on a dime, no wobbling, completely still. Yeremenko is one of the best at all of these aspects.
The Firebird is to me Stravinsky’s greatest music, eerie, passionate, and thrilling. The story as presented here is mysterious, romantic, includes a hideous monster and his hellish minions, a ghastly-looking castle, kidnapped princesses, the handsome hunter, men turned to stone – just my kind of story. This is without doubt the best presentation of this ballet you will ever see. Nina Ananiashvili is just luminescent as the Firebird. Her costume and makeup are gorgeous, and her dancing transcendent. I have rarely seen a prima ballerina who can stand on toe, without support, as long as this lady can. It is really hard to find words to describe her performance that are not flamboyant or cliché, but I can’t help that – it’s all true.
I was lucky enough to find the entire Firebird ballet from this DVD on Youtube. I am posting it here in its 5 parts. Those who are interested will be able to watch the ballet in full. If you don’t have time, or don’t think you’d like it, I would urge you to at least watch Nos. 2 and 3 to get the idea of something very special. You will see the Firebird, the maidens and the monster! The whole ballet is only about 38 minutes, about the same amount of time as an old Seinfeld episode -- take a chance!
In summary, the story of The Firebird begins with a young hunter in the woods who stumbles across a dark and frightening castle, surrounded by men turned to stone. A golden apple tree nearby shakes in the wind, and a fiery bird is seen approaching the tree. The hunter tries to shoot her, then capture her. She fights to be free, then offers the hunter a blazing feather for her freedom. She then joyfully flies free. The hunter sees a group of maidens come out of the castle and play around the tree. He falls in love with the princess, but she must return to the castle after a certain time. They are prisoners of the monster Kashchey (an ugly monster if ever there was one). The hunter decides to try to free them, he is captured by Kashchey and his minions, and is about to be turned to stone. He pulls the Firebird's blazing feather from his shirt, and she appears instantly. The monster and his demons are powerless against her. While the Firebird keeps everyone at bay, the hunter finds a luminous egg which contains Kashchey's soul and power. He destroys the egg, the monster and friends go up in a puff of smoke, and the evil spell is broken. The unfortunate men are returned to life, the maidens are reunited with them, the hunter and princess are together, and the story ends in fire and light and the most incredible climax of music Stravinsky ever wrote. I hope you enjoy it as much as I.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Trapped In A Frozen Tundra -- Movie Time!!
Have the poles reversed? Are we moving away from the sun? So many places in the country are battling snow and ice, sleet and hail -- Indianapolis had all that this week, and we are now a city of ice. The streets, walks, alleys, every surface in my neighborhood are skating rinks, perfectly smooth, thick sheets of ice. There are a few footprints on the yards, but they don't break through the surface. My sister's neighbor has been working on his driveway with a big sledgehammer. After 3 hours, he was about 1/3 way done and probably half dead. To get into my house, you have to climb steps up a hill in front, or come up a small hill to the back alley. In other words, I can't get out. Oh, I suppose I could get out -- but I couldn't get back in.
**Home Sweet Home**
My sons were able to get to the grocery for me -- I was running out of the essentials. No, not milk and bread. Coffee and cigarettes. They love their mother and would like to see her keep her sanity. They didn't have too much trouble -- they are young and strong.
Losing power wasn't very inconvenient. It was a balmy 2 degrees above 0, and I think my living room looks very chic this way.
So what does a lady do in a situation like this? Watch movies, of course (well, at least after the power came back on). I picked out cold movies, Dr. Zhivago, Ice Station Zebra, The Shining -- and a favorite cold classic TV series, Sgt. Preston of the Yukon. Maybe others would pick warm movies to fight the climate, but I'm afraid any Beach Blanket movies would make me cry and pull all four comforters over my head.
There are advantages to being iced in, though. Dear old Maxine says it best:
Punksitawny Phil did not see his shadow on Groundhog Day -- could the big thaw be in sight? I hope so!
**Home Sweet Home**
My sons were able to get to the grocery for me -- I was running out of the essentials. No, not milk and bread. Coffee and cigarettes. They love their mother and would like to see her keep her sanity. They didn't have too much trouble -- they are young and strong.
Losing power wasn't very inconvenient. It was a balmy 2 degrees above 0, and I think my living room looks very chic this way.
So what does a lady do in a situation like this? Watch movies, of course (well, at least after the power came back on). I picked out cold movies, Dr. Zhivago, Ice Station Zebra, The Shining -- and a favorite cold classic TV series, Sgt. Preston of the Yukon. Maybe others would pick warm movies to fight the climate, but I'm afraid any Beach Blanket movies would make me cry and pull all four comforters over my head.
There are advantages to being iced in, though. Dear old Maxine says it best:
Punksitawny Phil did not see his shadow on Groundhog Day -- could the big thaw be in sight? I hope so!
Monday, January 17, 2011
CMBA Hitchcock Blogathon - "Rebecca"
There are some opening lines of books or movies that stay with you forever. Years later, just hearing those words evokes memory and feelings experienced the very first time. I am reminded of the beginning of the immortal Moby Dick -- "Call me Ishmael." Or the whispered "Rosebud" in Citizen Kane. The first words of Daphne du Maurier's 1938 novel, Rebecca, are among the most famous -- "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." Director Alfred Hitchcock created what is to me a movie like a dream. The story is dramatic, suspenseful, incorporating controversial and sordid issues, and yet it is the dream that I remember.
Rebecca is a story of many levels which begins with a shy and unsophisticated young girl (Joan Fontaine) meeting and marrying widower Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier), the epitome of British wealth and aristocracy. What seems like a dream come true for the girl turns into a nightmare of insecurity, hostility, crippling self-doubt and what seems to be the crumbling of the love she believed Maxim shared with her. You see, there was Rebecca, Maxim’s first wife, whose shadow was everywhere. In a brilliant literary technique, du Maurier gave the girl no name. She is only referred to as Max’s wife, or the second Mrs. de Winter, or darling, or madam. Only the name of Rebecca dominates. Everyone the girl meets is openly surprised to see the little timid girl who has become the second Mrs. de Winter, and all say variations of the same thing: “Maxim simply adored Rebecca.”
Rebecca was beautiful, accomplished, at home in the world of high society, everything that the second Mrs. de Winter was not. Her handwritten initial “R” appears on household books, her pillowslip, handkerchiefs – so powerful is Rebecca in the girls’ mind that when the phone rings and a servant asks for Mrs. de Winter, the girl says “Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. de Winter is dead.” The magnificent mansion, Manderley, is frightening to the girl, and the strangely hostile housekeeper Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson) is intimidating and mysteriously unwelcoming to the new wife. Maxim’s moody behavior causes great anxiety in the girl, and she is convinced that he cannot forget Rebecca.
Mrs. Danvers eventually reveals her obsessive love for Rebecca in an unforgettable scene in Rebecca’s stunning bedroom suite, which has been closed off since her death. The lesbian undertones of Mrs. Danver’s love and Rebecca’s possible bisexuality are clearly evident as the strange woman lures the girl to look at Rebecca’s furs, lingerie, even her custom-made underclothes. To Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca is and always will be the mistress of Manderley, and the girl is an insignificant intruder. To Mrs. Danvers, even Rebecca’s death by drowning meant that her indomitable life force could not be quenched by any human being, only by the power of the sea.
Through many twists and tangles, the story of Rebecca is high suspense, and I don’t wish to mar anyone’s possible first viewing with more information. One very subtle hint I will share with you -- when the girl asks Maxim’s accountant, Frank, a kind but reticent man, to tell her what Rebecca was really like, he answered reluctantly “I suppose she was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”
Producer David O. Selznick obtained the rights to the best-selling novel, and Alfred Hitchcock, already famous for his British films, was brought in to direct. Selznick was already well known for his micro-managing of films in progress, and Hitchcock, no pushover himself, found some clever ways to assure that his directorial vision would be the winner. Selznick was overwhelmed with the filming of Gone With the Wind, which turned out to be lucky for Hitchcock. For one scene in particular, Selznick wished to have smoke spell out the letter “R”. Hitchcock felt this “lacked subtlety” probably a nice way of saying it was a stupid idea. So Hitchcock shot the scene, using a technique of editing it in camera, so that Selznick could not change it when he got around to looking at it.
The final ensemble of actors in Rebecca is wonderful, but the part of the second Mrs. de Winter was difficult to cast. Among other actresses, Vivien Leigh was considered. Olivier, obviously prejudiced by his love for Leigh, was insistent that she get the part. However, Selznick and Hitchcock finally decided upon young Joan Fontaine, which infuriated Olivier so much that he was very unpleasant to Fontaine throughout the filming. Shades of Wuthering Heights when for the exact same reason, Olivier was not nice to Merle Oberon. It appears that Mr. Olivier did not like to be crossed. However, the idea of casting the stunningly beautiful Leigh as a plain, unsophisticated girl was ludicrous. Rebecca's domination as the beautiful, unforgettable woman would have been diminished by another beautiful woman.
Special notice must be given to Judith Anderson as Mrs. Danvers. With her great, cold eyes, her marvelous clipped speech and aura of madness, she created a character that will love on in movie history. Joan Fontaine, although a lovely woman, played the part of the shy, plain girl wonderfully. Robert Donat had originally been considered for the part of Maxim de Winter, but Olivier was finally chosen, a better type for the part in my opinion. The ever-charming, always handsome George Sanders played Rebecca’s shifty cousin and did it with his usual charisma. Other supporting players included well-known actors Nigel Bruce, Reginald Denny, C. Aubrey Smith and Gladys Cooper.
One supporting player I believe stands out in her short but significant role as Mrs. Edythe Van Hopper, an American society woman who had employed the girl as a companion on her trips through Europe. Her name is Florence Bates, and she is perfection as a vain, silly, yet sometimes shrewd woman who is completely blind to her unpleasant effect upon Maxim de Winter, and annoyingly determined to be allowed into better circles. Bates was flawless in her depictions of such women, and lends a touch of humor to a dark story.
Selznick deliberately held Rebecca to release in 1940, as he knew that Gone With the Wind would dominate the 1939 Oscars. His plan was right -- Rebecca won the Oscar for Best Picture of 1940, and cinematographer George Barnes won for his beautiful work in creating the atmosphere of Rebecca. Selznick could not find a mansion great enough to represent the majestic Manderley, so it was done with miniatures, and the reality of its look is a tribute to Barnes. Hitchcock’s direction was, as always, a great achievement.
Perhaps it is Waxman’s haunting score, perhaps the cinematography that gave the film its diffused, hypnotic quality, but Rebecca is like a dream remembered, and certainly takes its place as one of the best of the Golden Age of movies
Saturday, January 1, 2011
2011 -- Where Are The Flying Cars?
Now this is what 2011 should look like! I was a child of the late 50's, early 60's. Remember? All of the movies, cartoons, comic books, Twilight Zone episodes that portrayed the future -- now the future has come and it doesn't look a whole lot different. Oh, we have cell phones and computers -- but I wanted flying cars and robot maids who do housework, casual trips to Mars and time machines, "Beam me up, Scotty" and alliances with alien life forms. What happened?
This is a whole new experience -- grieving for the future that didn't come. Come on, guys -- step it up! I want to beam around before I die! (But I guess I would settle for a robot maid who does housework....)
Happy New Year to everyone!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas With One of the Great Voices of Our Time
I want to share with you my favorite Christmas song as done by the honeyed voice of the great Nat King Cole. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY FRIENDS!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Censorship Has Come To Classic Films
I usually do a lot of research and re-writing for my posts here on my blog. This is not one of those posts. It is off the cuff, about an issue I just ran into on American Movie Classics channel. AMC started out as a purely classic film channel, with no editing or commercials, much like Turner Classic Movies still is. After a few years, AMC turned into a commercial channel, no longer showed just classic films, and generally started a downward spiral in terms of its programming. Frankly, I don't often watch AMC unless there is something special I want to see.
AMC showed Holiday Inn with Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby just the other day. It has become a Christmas classic, and I set it to save on the DVR. I figured that way I could zip through the commercials and see the film without much distraction. I sat down to watch it tonight. Most classic film buffs know that the story is of a country inn, which the owner (Crosby) decides to open only on holidays. Each holiday would be celebrated with dinner, dancing and special musical numbers in honor of the particular day (Astaire is featured in many of those). As the movie went on, Lincoln's birthday was celebrated. The actors were preparing for the big number, and then suddenly the movie jumped to after the number, completely deleting the number itself.
Yes, the number was "Abraham" and it was done in blackface, like a minstrel show. Many of the old musicals included minstrel numbers. It was a different time with different perspectives. Fortunately, we have evolved as a culture and have a better understanding of how these musical number affected black Americans. No one would dream of resurrecting this type of musical racism, and, to paraphrase another movie that brings up similar arguments, blackface has "gone with the wind." And rightly so.
However, it is a part of history, and a lot of history is unpleasant. The struggle of a culture to rise above bigotry and stupidity is a long and painful process, and we have come a long way from our beginnings. In our day now, political correctness is used to justify many revisions of history, and our classic films are just beginning to come under fire. We have seen great books like Huckleberry Finn banned from schools because of language, with no understanding of the book as a piece of literature that was anti-racism. Other books have met the same fate. Now it is beginning to show up in film. I remember not too long ago seeing Mel Brooks' Robin Hood, Men in Tights on a cable station. Certainly not a great movie classic, but it was cut to pieces. Someone with a gay agenda decided to remove all semblance of gay jokes in editing it. If you have seen the movie, you know that resulted in the movie being shredded to pieces since so much of it was a spoof on that particular issue.
Holiday Inn is the first well-loved classic film of which I am aware that has been censored so blatantly, this time by AMC. This is a disturbing and dangerous precedent. There are so many agendas from so many groups, where will it end up? Can classic films weather this upcoming storm? There is already a movement beginning to remove all smoking from all films. How on earth could you ever have a Bette Davis or Humphrey Bogart movie with such restrictions? A few years ago, the post office designed a stamp to honor the great blues guitarist Robert Johnson. They used his most famous picture, holding his guitar with a cigarette. They erased all traces of the cigarette. Now it is their idea of what Robert Johnson should be, not what he was. It is no longer Robert Johnson -- it is what a censor allowed.
Who is the censor? It could be anybody, somebody's friend, an elected official, an appointed bureaucrat -- what does it matter? And you can bet that the people looking for the politically incorrect will not be the least bit interested in the fact that they are altering another person's work, taking over a writer's brain or a director's vision -- none of that will matter. Classic film could end up being either butchered or not allowed to be shown at all. Don't laugh -- it could very well happen. It has already begun. If you have not read George Orwell's 1984, do it now. It is a brilliant portrayal of the ease with which history can be revised and eventually erased at the whim of a government.
The real message of censorship is that we, the people, are too stupid to experience history, that we cannot determine right from wrong, that we cannot learn from what was, and wost of all, that there was nothing to love that does not conform to current culture. Even with the blackface numbers, the musicals were still good movies and a true picture of an era. Are we to pretend it never happened? Are we to lose all beauty and goodness from that era just because there are some things that were bad?
If Turner Classic Movies ever gives in to this, I give up. In the meantime, I am squirreling away all of the favorites I can get my hands on in case this awful trend continues to its natural conclusion. I am very fearful of what I see as a movement of censorship that rivals any in history. It must be fought down -- there is so much to lose.
AMC showed Holiday Inn with Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby just the other day. It has become a Christmas classic, and I set it to save on the DVR. I figured that way I could zip through the commercials and see the film without much distraction. I sat down to watch it tonight. Most classic film buffs know that the story is of a country inn, which the owner (Crosby) decides to open only on holidays. Each holiday would be celebrated with dinner, dancing and special musical numbers in honor of the particular day (Astaire is featured in many of those). As the movie went on, Lincoln's birthday was celebrated. The actors were preparing for the big number, and then suddenly the movie jumped to after the number, completely deleting the number itself.
Yes, the number was "Abraham" and it was done in blackface, like a minstrel show. Many of the old musicals included minstrel numbers. It was a different time with different perspectives. Fortunately, we have evolved as a culture and have a better understanding of how these musical number affected black Americans. No one would dream of resurrecting this type of musical racism, and, to paraphrase another movie that brings up similar arguments, blackface has "gone with the wind." And rightly so.
However, it is a part of history, and a lot of history is unpleasant. The struggle of a culture to rise above bigotry and stupidity is a long and painful process, and we have come a long way from our beginnings. In our day now, political correctness is used to justify many revisions of history, and our classic films are just beginning to come under fire. We have seen great books like Huckleberry Finn banned from schools because of language, with no understanding of the book as a piece of literature that was anti-racism. Other books have met the same fate. Now it is beginning to show up in film. I remember not too long ago seeing Mel Brooks' Robin Hood, Men in Tights on a cable station. Certainly not a great movie classic, but it was cut to pieces. Someone with a gay agenda decided to remove all semblance of gay jokes in editing it. If you have seen the movie, you know that resulted in the movie being shredded to pieces since so much of it was a spoof on that particular issue.
Holiday Inn is the first well-loved classic film of which I am aware that has been censored so blatantly, this time by AMC. This is a disturbing and dangerous precedent. There are so many agendas from so many groups, where will it end up? Can classic films weather this upcoming storm? There is already a movement beginning to remove all smoking from all films. How on earth could you ever have a Bette Davis or Humphrey Bogart movie with such restrictions? A few years ago, the post office designed a stamp to honor the great blues guitarist Robert Johnson. They used his most famous picture, holding his guitar with a cigarette. They erased all traces of the cigarette. Now it is their idea of what Robert Johnson should be, not what he was. It is no longer Robert Johnson -- it is what a censor allowed.
Who is the censor? It could be anybody, somebody's friend, an elected official, an appointed bureaucrat -- what does it matter? And you can bet that the people looking for the politically incorrect will not be the least bit interested in the fact that they are altering another person's work, taking over a writer's brain or a director's vision -- none of that will matter. Classic film could end up being either butchered or not allowed to be shown at all. Don't laugh -- it could very well happen. It has already begun. If you have not read George Orwell's 1984, do it now. It is a brilliant portrayal of the ease with which history can be revised and eventually erased at the whim of a government.
The real message of censorship is that we, the people, are too stupid to experience history, that we cannot determine right from wrong, that we cannot learn from what was, and wost of all, that there was nothing to love that does not conform to current culture. Even with the blackface numbers, the musicals were still good movies and a true picture of an era. Are we to pretend it never happened? Are we to lose all beauty and goodness from that era just because there are some things that were bad?
If Turner Classic Movies ever gives in to this, I give up. In the meantime, I am squirreling away all of the favorites I can get my hands on in case this awful trend continues to its natural conclusion. I am very fearful of what I see as a movement of censorship that rivals any in history. It must be fought down -- there is so much to lose.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tony Curtis as The Boston Strangler -- His Greatest Performance
I am writing this short post to announce the showing of what is to me the best dramatic performance of the career of Tony Curtis. The recent death of Curtis is a loss that affected many classic movie lovers. He was known for good looks and charm, as a wonderful comedian, and a good dramatic actor. His best dramatic role, in my opinion, was his portrayal of Albert DiSalvo in the true story of The Boston Strangler. Henry Fonda also gives a wonderful performance as a detective obsessed with finding the strangler. The movie was released in 1968, not long after the murders of this vicious killer terrorized the women of Boston. For reasons unknown to me it is not often shown as part of classic film repertoire.
Fox Movie Channel is showing The Boston Strangler on November 6th at 4:00 p.m. Indianapolis time. For any fan of Tony Curtis, it is an essential piece of his legacy as an actor. Watch it, tape it, DVR it, but don't miss it.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
How To Scare Your Grandchildren With Classic Movies
Some Grandmas bake cookies and pot roasts for the grandkids. Some knit sweaters and scarves. I like to scare my grandchildren. It's not as bad as it sounds...I do it with classic movies. It's almost Halloween, so it's respectable. Tonight the kids are spending the night with Grandma, and it was scary movie night. (I'm a very young grandmother -- really, I was 11 when I had my son, and he was 11 when he had his -- not buying it, huh?)
Tony is 14. Sometimes I have each grandchild alone, and I have brought out the big guns for him, like The Haunting (the good one, the original) and The Changeling with George C. Scott. Pretty scary stuff. He loves them as much as I. But tonight both the kids are over. Eileen is 10, and she is more easily scared. So I brought out good old Vincent Price. Couldn't be too bad, could it? The kids snuggled into the beds we made on the living room rug, I got comfortable in my big chair, and we all settled back with snacks.
We started with Vincent in The Pit and the Pendulum. I told them about the great Edgar Allan Poe and his wonderful body of work. Educational material, you see. Fifteen minutes into the movie, I had Eileen on my lap hiding her face and peeking through her fingers, needing Grandma's arm around her when she was unable to stop herself from looking. Let's see....harpsichord playing by itself, ghostly voice behind the walls, an old torture chamber, a creepy crypt in the cellar, a giant razor-sharp pendulum whooshing down toward a guy's stomach....I don't know why she got scared. I said maybe we should watch something else. "No," she declared. "I like this one." But she stayed on my lap. Tony was loving it.We took a bathroom break, and I put on The House of Wax, Vincent again of course. I told them about the original 1930's version with Lionel Atwill, the popularity of wax museums long ago. More education. 10 minutes into this one, Eileen was back on my lap. Hmmm.....wax figures melting in a fire, faces dissolving, eyes popping out, bodies being stolen from the morgue, a creepy wax museum with tableaus of famous murders, Vincent trying to coat the heroine in boiling wax..... Again I said maybe we should watch something else Tony protested strongly. Eileen said "No, I want to see what happens." On my lap, of course.
So I decided that our third and last feature would be one that couldn't possibly scare anybody, could it? It's so bad! Night of the Lepus, certainly not a classic except among cult lovers of really bad movies. No opportunity for education here. OK....cute little bunnies made to look huge by camera angles and slow-motion, shadows of the bunnies on a cave wall, bunnies with giant sharp teeth, screaming people....fortunately Eileen fell sound asleep before the screaming and blood, and Tony and I had a good laugh together with this one.
Many people today think children should not see scary movies. I know a couple of people who think that the fabulous "Night on Bald Mountain" scene in Fantasia is awful, and would never let their kids see it. I don't agree with them. When I was a kid at a re-release of Fantasia, the theatre was full of kids and parents, and we loved it. We're not talking toddlers here -- certainly very small tots would be too scared by this, I think. Many parents of older children probably don't realize that their kids have spent the night at friends' houses and watched Saw I, Saw II, Saw XXV, or seen the ghastly creative deaths in Final Destination movies. With classic scary films, parents have a chance to at least educate their children about the difference between good scary and bad grossness.
I like to show my grandkids the good stuff, experience it with them, and show them the quality scary as opposed to some of the sicko gore shown today. Some of my most treasured memories involve all 7 of us kids going to the movies with Dad and Mom and being scared together. My Dad would usually do something to scare us after we got home and went to bed, just to make sure we would remember the experience. We did, and it was great.
Tonight we had a wonderful time, and I feel good that my grandkids know who Vincent Price is, want to see more Poe stories, and enjoy scary movie night with Grandma. I'll make cookies tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Leo Genn -- A Movie Staple
I watched John Huston’s marvelous movie Moby Dick (1956) today, and feel that a tribute to actor Leo Genn is in order. Genn played first mate Starbuck, about whom the narrator Ishmael said “He was one of the great staples of the ship, like beef or flour, there when needed and not to be foolishly wasted.”
This description of this character applies in a special way to Leo Genn as an actor. He was indeed a great staple of the movies in which he appeared. Genn’s career included many movies and TV appearances in later years, but his real place in movie history comes from three important movies – The Snake Pit (1948), Quo Vadis (1941), and Moby Dick (1956). His dignified good looks, presence, and mesmerizing voice with British accent were a large part of his success on stage and screen. Born in England in 1905, Genn first attended law school and became a barrister. Fortunately for us, he turned to the stage and eventually movies as an actor.
In all three of these movies, Genn plays the character who is the conscience of the stories. His physical presence and the soothing tone of his voice made him a natural for this type of role. Even in a later role in a TV version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, with Jack Palance in the title role, Genn plays Dr. Lanyon, the friend and conscience of the tortured doctor. This was the character type he played so flawlessly.
Leo Genn deserves to be remembered as a significant element in movies that continue to be watched and admired so many years after their initial release. His movies, particularly the three discussed above, would not have been as good as they were without him.
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