“It was a woman who drove me to drink, and I never even had the decency to thank her.”
“I like children. Preferably broiled or fried.”
Happy 130th birthday today to the funniest misanthrope who ever lived, William Claude Dunkenfield – aka W. C. Fields – born in 1880 in Darby, Pennsylvania. He suffered through a painful and abused childhood, learned to juggle, beat up his father and ran away to join Vaudeville. He became a star, developing a cynical, put-upon persona that was somehow endearing. When movies came along, he joined up, actually working in silent film with D.W. Griffith. But movies needed to talk before they could fully embrace Fields’ unique perspective on humanity. His distinctive nasal delivery became his trademark – instantly recognizable, mumbling asides and witticisms that gained him a place in the hearts of curmudgeons everywhere.
He wrote his own scripts – under such pseudonyms as Mahatma Kane Jeeves and Charles Bogle. He made a few masterpieces, notably ‘The Bank Dick’ (1940). But my favorite Fields is the kinder, gentler Fields who appeared in ‘It’s A Gift’ (1934) as put-upon Grocery store owner Harold Bisonette, who dreams of moving his family to California and tending a grove of orange trees. When he finally arrives, he discovers that the property he purchased sight unseen is a worthless and dilapidated lot, and seeks solace in a flask of whiskey.
“You’re drunk”, scolds a stuffy looking banker.
“Yeah, and you’re crazy”, responds Fields nonchalantly. “But I’ll be sober in the morning, and you’ll be crazy the rest of your life.”
You gotta love a man with a philosophy like that.
Click here for a flask of Fields in ‘It’s A Gift’:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2LfQ_jCeTs
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
THE LAND OF MILK ‘N MONEY
January 28 . . .
The City of Beverly Hills became formally recognized by the Golden State of California on this day in 1914, and property values were never the same again.
In 1844 a Spanish woman named Maria Rita Valdez managed to score one of the great deals of the century when she acquired controlling interest of 4,500 acres of tumbleweeds, sagebrush, sheep meadows and lizards for a grand total of $17.50. In 1912, a group of German investors decided to build a hotel – dubbed the Hotel Beverly Hills – on the property to attract investors. By sheer luck and fortuitous timing, the fledgling film industry arrived a few months later, and business at the hotel was booming. When movie royalty Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks decided to built their home Pickfair on a hill overlooking the hotel, the town’s reputation was made. Within a few years, John Barrymore, Charles Chaplin, Greta Garbo and the rest of Hollywood royalty had nestled into cozy coexistence in paradise.
Commemorate the illustrious real estate transaction with ‘Down and Out in Beverly Hills’ (1986), Paul Mazursky’s potent and funny satire of Southern California customs and lifestyles. Based on the French film ‘Boudou Saved From Drowning’, ‘Down and Out’ follows the tale of a homeless, eccentric but charismatic bum (Nick Nolte) who manages to get adopted by a typically atypical Beverly Hills family, headed by wire hanger manufacturer Richard Dreyfuss and his blowsy wife, Bette Midler. Mazursky skewers the Southern California lifestyle with both wit and compassion, and Nolte reveals previously unknown comicedic talents in his role as the manipulative but amiable bum.
The City of Beverly Hills became formally recognized by the Golden State of California on this day in 1914, and property values were never the same again.
In 1844 a Spanish woman named Maria Rita Valdez managed to score one of the great deals of the century when she acquired controlling interest of 4,500 acres of tumbleweeds, sagebrush, sheep meadows and lizards for a grand total of $17.50. In 1912, a group of German investors decided to build a hotel – dubbed the Hotel Beverly Hills – on the property to attract investors. By sheer luck and fortuitous timing, the fledgling film industry arrived a few months later, and business at the hotel was booming. When movie royalty Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks decided to built their home Pickfair on a hill overlooking the hotel, the town’s reputation was made. Within a few years, John Barrymore, Charles Chaplin, Greta Garbo and the rest of Hollywood royalty had nestled into cozy coexistence in paradise.
Commemorate the illustrious real estate transaction with ‘Down and Out in Beverly Hills’ (1986), Paul Mazursky’s potent and funny satire of Southern California customs and lifestyles. Based on the French film ‘Boudou Saved From Drowning’, ‘Down and Out’ follows the tale of a homeless, eccentric but charismatic bum (Nick Nolte) who manages to get adopted by a typically atypical Beverly Hills family, headed by wire hanger manufacturer Richard Dreyfuss and his blowsy wife, Bette Midler. Mazursky skewers the Southern California lifestyle with both wit and compassion, and Nolte reveals previously unknown comicedic talents in his role as the manipulative but amiable bum.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
MO' ART WITH MOZART
January 27 . . .
He was the ultimate child prodigy, the son of a stern taskmaster father who played the violin and a doting mother. As a toddler, he mastered the piano by two and composed his first minuet by four; by 1780, he had been decorated by the Pope, played for the King of England, and had proposed marriage to Marie Antionette (who turned him down because he was only eight at the time). He was born this day in 1756 in Salzburg, Austria, and was christened Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangug Theophilus. But we know him better as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, arguably the greatest and most prodigious composer who ever lived.
Mozart was popular in his life, but he had his detractors – most significantly the envious Antonio Salieri, his rival composer at court. Salieri had talent, discipline and devotion; Mozart had genius and the ability to toss off masterpieces seemingly without effort. Salieri envied Mozart, perhaps even loathed him. But did he hate him enough to commit murder?
That’s the premise for director Milos Forman’s excellent movie based on Peter Schaffer’s successful play, 'Amadeus' (1984), which swept the Oscars that year, winning Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor. Part biopic, part musical, part mystery, Amadeus celebrates Mozart’s life, music and times – bringing it all magnificently to life. Tom Hulce is a totally fresh and unexpected Mozart – called ‘Wolfy’ by his wife – giddy, fun-loving, bawdy and with a laugh like a hyena on helium. His rival Salieri is played with petulant indignation by F. Murray Abraham, who won a Best Actor Oscar for his tortured portrait of a man who devotes his life and art to God and can’t understand why his Master bestows His gifts on a hedonistic oaf like Mozart.
The film does take liberties; the whole Salieri murder conspiracy, while a very effective hook, is fiction. In all probability, Mozart died of typhoid fever, not poison, at thirty-five. Stillo, Amadeus is an enthralling rumination on genius – both on those to whom it is seemingly randomly bestowed and on those who suffer and sacrifice and never attain it. A vibrant, invigorating, lushly executed modern masterpiece.
Click here for a taste:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Du-rD2QL1Pc
He was the ultimate child prodigy, the son of a stern taskmaster father who played the violin and a doting mother. As a toddler, he mastered the piano by two and composed his first minuet by four; by 1780, he had been decorated by the Pope, played for the King of England, and had proposed marriage to Marie Antionette (who turned him down because he was only eight at the time). He was born this day in 1756 in Salzburg, Austria, and was christened Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangug Theophilus. But we know him better as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, arguably the greatest and most prodigious composer who ever lived.
Mozart was popular in his life, but he had his detractors – most significantly the envious Antonio Salieri, his rival composer at court. Salieri had talent, discipline and devotion; Mozart had genius and the ability to toss off masterpieces seemingly without effort. Salieri envied Mozart, perhaps even loathed him. But did he hate him enough to commit murder?
That’s the premise for director Milos Forman’s excellent movie based on Peter Schaffer’s successful play, 'Amadeus' (1984), which swept the Oscars that year, winning Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor. Part biopic, part musical, part mystery, Amadeus celebrates Mozart’s life, music and times – bringing it all magnificently to life. Tom Hulce is a totally fresh and unexpected Mozart – called ‘Wolfy’ by his wife – giddy, fun-loving, bawdy and with a laugh like a hyena on helium. His rival Salieri is played with petulant indignation by F. Murray Abraham, who won a Best Actor Oscar for his tortured portrait of a man who devotes his life and art to God and can’t understand why his Master bestows His gifts on a hedonistic oaf like Mozart.
The film does take liberties; the whole Salieri murder conspiracy, while a very effective hook, is fiction. In all probability, Mozart died of typhoid fever, not poison, at thirty-five. Stillo, Amadeus is an enthralling rumination on genius – both on those to whom it is seemingly randomly bestowed and on those who suffer and sacrifice and never attain it. A vibrant, invigorating, lushly executed modern masterpiece.
Click here for a taste:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Du-rD2QL1Pc
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
AUSSIE WHAT YOU MEAN
January 26 . .
Today is Australia Day. Watch ‘Crocodile Dundee’ (1980) if you like – that’s perfectly OK, mate – but I’d suggest a radically different view of Down Under: Nicolas Roeg’s visually mesmerizing and haunting ‘Walkabout’ (1979). An in-depth look at the harsh glories of the Australian Outback, ‘Walkabout’ is a film unlike any other, visually seductive and dreamlike in its approach. Director Roeg has an uncanny ability to readjust the viewer’s internal clock and cultural compass.
This poetic story of two English school children (Luc Roeg and Jenny Agutter) lost in the outback after their father abandons them and kills himself plays like a langerous dream. When the two wanderers come across an Aborigine boy on his ‘walkabout’ – a rite of passage into manhood involving months of solo survival – they become dependent on the seemingly primitive being to get them back to civilization. With no common language, the trio embarks on a long journey back to ‘civilization’, which has irrevocable changes for all. ‘Walkabout’ casts a cinematic spell – sometimes unspeakably beautiful, sometimes chilling – packed with unforgettable images and with an ending that is at once ironic and heart-wrenching.
‘Walkabout’ is a journey you won’t forget.
Check out the trailer here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=utSgS3fnHN4
Today is Australia Day. Watch ‘Crocodile Dundee’ (1980) if you like – that’s perfectly OK, mate – but I’d suggest a radically different view of Down Under: Nicolas Roeg’s visually mesmerizing and haunting ‘Walkabout’ (1979). An in-depth look at the harsh glories of the Australian Outback, ‘Walkabout’ is a film unlike any other, visually seductive and dreamlike in its approach. Director Roeg has an uncanny ability to readjust the viewer’s internal clock and cultural compass.
This poetic story of two English school children (Luc Roeg and Jenny Agutter) lost in the outback after their father abandons them and kills himself plays like a langerous dream. When the two wanderers come across an Aborigine boy on his ‘walkabout’ – a rite of passage into manhood involving months of solo survival – they become dependent on the seemingly primitive being to get them back to civilization. With no common language, the trio embarks on a long journey back to ‘civilization’, which has irrevocable changes for all. ‘Walkabout’ casts a cinematic spell – sometimes unspeakably beautiful, sometimes chilling – packed with unforgettable images and with an ending that is at once ironic and heart-wrenching.
‘Walkabout’ is a journey you won’t forget.
Check out the trailer here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=utSgS3fnHN4
Monday, January 25, 2010
THE BEAT GOES ON . . AND ON . . AND ON . . .
January 25 . . .
Yesterday, Sunday January 24, the German rock group The Scorpions announced that, after 40 years, they were calling it quits. They’re releasing one last album (LP? CD? Download?), called ‘Sting In The Tail’ in March, and will embark on their farewell tour in April. Hopefully, they’ll still be ambulatory enough to get on stage. It kind of brings a new meaning to the term ‘Oldies Act’.
Still, it’s an admirable trait, tenacity. And music is an admittedly hard Jones to kick. I know from experience. I was a working musician – and no, that’s not necessarily an oxymoron – for many years. My hat is off to any group that can weather the storm through more than 4 decades. Well done, lads.
The Stones are probably the most celebrated long-haul rock band, clocking in at nearly 50 years, now. But not every geriatric rocker gets to have Martin Scorsese film a documentary on them (‘Shine A Light’) So let’s have a round of applause for the subject of today’s ‘Movie A Day’, the one . . the only . . ANVIL!
The original members, drummer Robb Reiner and guitar whiz Steve Kudlow star in one of the wackiest, yet most oddly effecting rock documentaries ever, ‘Anvil! The Story of Anvil’ (2008). Heavy Metal band Anvil has been together for nearly as long as the Stones, and they’re still Rolling – though admittedly downhill. (When asked by the local paper what he carries in his ever-present fanny pak, Kudrow responds, “Wallet, money, keys, rolling papers, false teeth . .”)
If you live in Austin, Texas, tonight is your golden opportunity – the boys are playing a live gig at Emo’s at 7pm (guess those midnight shows are a thing of the past), after showing the film. Be there or be . . well, home watching TV. If you can’t make the gig, keep an eye out for this inspiring, funny, one-of-a-kind movie from director Sasha Gervasi. It’s kind of a strange hybrid of ‘The Last Waltz’, ‘This Is Spinal Tap’ and ‘The Filth & The Fury’. Even if you’re not into Heavy Metal, you’ll find ‘Anvil! The Story of Anvil’ to be an inspiring testament to the 3-chord lifestyle. Steve Kudrow: “ . . it wouldn’t matter whether it was heavy metal or country or western; the heart of the story is about determination, personal sacrifice, love, dedication to a cause . .”
And false teeth. Don’t forget the false teeth. Keep rockin’, lads.
Yesterday, Sunday January 24, the German rock group The Scorpions announced that, after 40 years, they were calling it quits. They’re releasing one last album (LP? CD? Download?), called ‘Sting In The Tail’ in March, and will embark on their farewell tour in April. Hopefully, they’ll still be ambulatory enough to get on stage. It kind of brings a new meaning to the term ‘Oldies Act’.
Still, it’s an admirable trait, tenacity. And music is an admittedly hard Jones to kick. I know from experience. I was a working musician – and no, that’s not necessarily an oxymoron – for many years. My hat is off to any group that can weather the storm through more than 4 decades. Well done, lads.
The Stones are probably the most celebrated long-haul rock band, clocking in at nearly 50 years, now. But not every geriatric rocker gets to have Martin Scorsese film a documentary on them (‘Shine A Light’) So let’s have a round of applause for the subject of today’s ‘Movie A Day’, the one . . the only . . ANVIL!
The original members, drummer Robb Reiner and guitar whiz Steve Kudlow star in one of the wackiest, yet most oddly effecting rock documentaries ever, ‘Anvil! The Story of Anvil’ (2008). Heavy Metal band Anvil has been together for nearly as long as the Stones, and they’re still Rolling – though admittedly downhill. (When asked by the local paper what he carries in his ever-present fanny pak, Kudrow responds, “Wallet, money, keys, rolling papers, false teeth . .”)
If you live in Austin, Texas, tonight is your golden opportunity – the boys are playing a live gig at Emo’s at 7pm (guess those midnight shows are a thing of the past), after showing the film. Be there or be . . well, home watching TV. If you can’t make the gig, keep an eye out for this inspiring, funny, one-of-a-kind movie from director Sasha Gervasi. It’s kind of a strange hybrid of ‘The Last Waltz’, ‘This Is Spinal Tap’ and ‘The Filth & The Fury’. Even if you’re not into Heavy Metal, you’ll find ‘Anvil! The Story of Anvil’ to be an inspiring testament to the 3-chord lifestyle. Steve Kudrow: “ . . it wouldn’t matter whether it was heavy metal or country or western; the heart of the story is about determination, personal sacrifice, love, dedication to a cause . .”
And false teeth. Don’t forget the false teeth. Keep rockin’, lads.
Friday, January 22, 2010
HERE’S LOOKING AT HIM, KID .
January 23
During his service in the Navy during WWI aboard the Leviathan, the sailor’s lower lip was injured during a shelling, and he talked with a pronounced lisp for the rest of his life. But if anyone ever made a lisp sound manly, it was Humphrey Bogart, born this day in 1899 in New York City.
If any actor comes close to the illusory, iconoclastic male heart of the American cinema, it’s Bogie. The AFI voted him #1 on their list of the Top 100 Movie Stars. But his lineage was misleading. He was raised as the son of a successful Manhattan physician, and sent to study medicine at Yale, but was discharged due to disciplinary problems. He joined the Navy during WWI, and after his discharge, found himself drawn to the theater, working his way up from office boy to stage manager to actor. When he started appearing in Off-Broadway plays, he was invariably cast as secong juvenile lead.
The struggling actor got his big break when he was cast as gangster-on-the-run Duke Mantee (at the insistence of influential star Leslie Howard) in ‘The Petrified Forest’ (1936). Thereafter, he took on a slew of secondary roles to Jimmy Cagney – who invariably killed him off before the final reel. But in 1941, director Raoul Walsh saw something special and noble in Bogart, casting him as career criminal Roy ‘Mad Dog’ Earle in ‘High Sierra’ (1941). It was Bogie’s first starring role. Suddenly, the Bogart persona was there, intact; tough but sympathetic, distant yet romantic, even tender. It remains one of his best performances, and propelled him into the A-list.
Bogart went on to other memorable performances – ‘The Maltese Falcon’ (1941), ‘The African Queen’ (1951) . . but his insightful, sorrowful turn as the noble outlaw in ‘High Sierra’ was never surpassed. Taut direction and great location photography help elevate this to one of the great gangster flicks, ever – and something more. ‘High Sierra’ also provided a breakthrough part for Ida Lupino, touching and tough as the tag-along girl who loves him.
Check out the original trailer here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7kny3itNYQ&feature=PlayList&p=C19DE0E7906A0CF7&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=22
During his service in the Navy during WWI aboard the Leviathan, the sailor’s lower lip was injured during a shelling, and he talked with a pronounced lisp for the rest of his life. But if anyone ever made a lisp sound manly, it was Humphrey Bogart, born this day in 1899 in New York City.
If any actor comes close to the illusory, iconoclastic male heart of the American cinema, it’s Bogie. The AFI voted him #1 on their list of the Top 100 Movie Stars. But his lineage was misleading. He was raised as the son of a successful Manhattan physician, and sent to study medicine at Yale, but was discharged due to disciplinary problems. He joined the Navy during WWI, and after his discharge, found himself drawn to the theater, working his way up from office boy to stage manager to actor. When he started appearing in Off-Broadway plays, he was invariably cast as secong juvenile lead.
The struggling actor got his big break when he was cast as gangster-on-the-run Duke Mantee (at the insistence of influential star Leslie Howard) in ‘The Petrified Forest’ (1936). Thereafter, he took on a slew of secondary roles to Jimmy Cagney – who invariably killed him off before the final reel. But in 1941, director Raoul Walsh saw something special and noble in Bogart, casting him as career criminal Roy ‘Mad Dog’ Earle in ‘High Sierra’ (1941). It was Bogie’s first starring role. Suddenly, the Bogart persona was there, intact; tough but sympathetic, distant yet romantic, even tender. It remains one of his best performances, and propelled him into the A-list.
Bogart went on to other memorable performances – ‘The Maltese Falcon’ (1941), ‘The African Queen’ (1951) . . but his insightful, sorrowful turn as the noble outlaw in ‘High Sierra’ was never surpassed. Taut direction and great location photography help elevate this to one of the great gangster flicks, ever – and something more. ‘High Sierra’ also provided a breakthrough part for Ida Lupino, touching and tough as the tag-along girl who loves him.
Check out the original trailer here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7kny3itNYQ&feature=PlayList&p=C19DE0E7906A0CF7&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=22
THANK THE MAN WHO INVENTED MOVIES
January 22 . . .
All right . . it’s simplistic and inaccurate to say that D.W. Griffith ‘invented’ movies. But if any one man can be said to have developed the visual lexicon of modern American film, it is David Wark Griffith, born this day in 1875 in La Grange, Kentucky.
He began as a barnstorming actor using the stage name Lawrence Griffith, playing supporting roles in various slap-dash traveling theatrical troupes throughout the South. His courtly manner and distinguished voice did not overcome his somewhat unattractive and stiff physical demeanor, so he turned to playwriting. He failed at that, too – until he decided to try his luck pedaling his scenarios around New York in hopes of selling a story idea suitable for the newfangled fad called moving pictures. At the newly launched Biograph Studios, he found work as both writer and actor, soaking up everything he could learn about the fledgling medium. He was a quick study, developing a phenomenally intuitive understanding of the potential inherent in the exciting new field. Soon he was directing one-and two-reelers for the company, literally conjuring the visual language of film as he went along.
At Biograph, he stopped actors from giving over-the-top ‘stage’ performances, recognizing that the camera exaggerated expression. He developed inherently cinematic techniques – moving the camera, changing the angles, cross-cutting action, incorporating close-ups and rhythmic editing. In ‘The Birth of A Nation’ (1915), his epic feature-length saga of the American Civil War and its effects on a Southern family, he created what many historians regard as the single most important film in the development of cinema. But it was – and remains – controversial for its depiction of the KKK, presented as heroic vigilantes, and the film was justifiably accused of racism. Still, it was a huge success with the public. The film was the ‘Avatar’ of its day.
Griffith’s follow-up project was to be his ultimate masterpiece – and his grandest failure. Today’s Movie A Day is ‘Intolerance’ (1916) – an astonishingly ambitious work of art, gargantuan in scale, and still breathtakingly impressive. Griffith audaciously tells four overlapping stories simultaneously – a retelling of the Passion play, the storming of Babylon, the Huguenots, and a ‘modern day’ tale – gradually blending them all together like a fabric in the majestic climax. Griffith used film as a multi-narrative form that was astonishing in its reach and scale.
Inevitably, the monumentally ambitious film bombed at the box office, and it ruined Griffith financially. He went on to make several more masterpieces – most notably the poetic ‘Broken Blossoms’ (1919) and the historical epic ‘Orphans of the Storm’ (1921) – both starring the luminous Lillian Gish. But Griffith found himself left behind when talkies arrived, an anachronistic symbol of bygone days. He died penniless, proud, and soused, in the Knickerbocker Hotel in 1948, forgotten by all but a few old-timers.
Here's Part 1 of 'Intolerance':
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkgSIdOU_cc
All right . . it’s simplistic and inaccurate to say that D.W. Griffith ‘invented’ movies. But if any one man can be said to have developed the visual lexicon of modern American film, it is David Wark Griffith, born this day in 1875 in La Grange, Kentucky.
He began as a barnstorming actor using the stage name Lawrence Griffith, playing supporting roles in various slap-dash traveling theatrical troupes throughout the South. His courtly manner and distinguished voice did not overcome his somewhat unattractive and stiff physical demeanor, so he turned to playwriting. He failed at that, too – until he decided to try his luck pedaling his scenarios around New York in hopes of selling a story idea suitable for the newfangled fad called moving pictures. At the newly launched Biograph Studios, he found work as both writer and actor, soaking up everything he could learn about the fledgling medium. He was a quick study, developing a phenomenally intuitive understanding of the potential inherent in the exciting new field. Soon he was directing one-and two-reelers for the company, literally conjuring the visual language of film as he went along.
At Biograph, he stopped actors from giving over-the-top ‘stage’ performances, recognizing that the camera exaggerated expression. He developed inherently cinematic techniques – moving the camera, changing the angles, cross-cutting action, incorporating close-ups and rhythmic editing. In ‘The Birth of A Nation’ (1915), his epic feature-length saga of the American Civil War and its effects on a Southern family, he created what many historians regard as the single most important film in the development of cinema. But it was – and remains – controversial for its depiction of the KKK, presented as heroic vigilantes, and the film was justifiably accused of racism. Still, it was a huge success with the public. The film was the ‘Avatar’ of its day.
Griffith’s follow-up project was to be his ultimate masterpiece – and his grandest failure. Today’s Movie A Day is ‘Intolerance’ (1916) – an astonishingly ambitious work of art, gargantuan in scale, and still breathtakingly impressive. Griffith audaciously tells four overlapping stories simultaneously – a retelling of the Passion play, the storming of Babylon, the Huguenots, and a ‘modern day’ tale – gradually blending them all together like a fabric in the majestic climax. Griffith used film as a multi-narrative form that was astonishing in its reach and scale.
Inevitably, the monumentally ambitious film bombed at the box office, and it ruined Griffith financially. He went on to make several more masterpieces – most notably the poetic ‘Broken Blossoms’ (1919) and the historical epic ‘Orphans of the Storm’ (1921) – both starring the luminous Lillian Gish. But Griffith found himself left behind when talkies arrived, an anachronistic symbol of bygone days. He died penniless, proud, and soused, in the Knickerbocker Hotel in 1948, forgotten by all but a few old-timers.
Here's Part 1 of 'Intolerance':
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkgSIdOU_cc
Thursday, January 21, 2010
WHY YOU NEVER HEARD OF LOUIE THE 17th
January 21 . . .
Louie the 16th (formally known as Louis the XVI) wasn’t the most popular monarch in the history of France – which is why, on this day in 1793, he was executed by guillotine in the Place de la Revolution in Paris. By most accounts, he was ill suited for his job; a pleasant enough aristocrat, he was simply in . . ahem . . . over his head . . the victim of poor timing, a bad economy, unfortunate circumstance and unfavorable numerology. His wife, the cake-craving Marie Antoinette, suffered the same fate as her husband nine months later.
Commemorate the demise of the French aristocracy with ‘Start the Revolution Without Me’ (1970), an underappreciated farce that revolves around Louis’s court and the intrigues of the French Revolution. The unlikely team of Gene Wilder and Donald Sutherland are genuinely funny together as two sets of twins separated at birth, who find themselves on opposing sides of the revolution. It’s the kind of silly wink at history that brings to mind what was best about Mel Brooks – except that this film wasn’t by Mel Brooks; it was written and directed by Bud Yorkin, who would go on to create All In The Family with Norman Lear. Orson Welles lends a certain class as the narrator – for the first 5 minutes of the film. That was all the filmmakers could afford him for.
Enjoy this clip . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Grjph8pQmPg
Louie the 16th (formally known as Louis the XVI) wasn’t the most popular monarch in the history of France – which is why, on this day in 1793, he was executed by guillotine in the Place de la Revolution in Paris. By most accounts, he was ill suited for his job; a pleasant enough aristocrat, he was simply in . . ahem . . . over his head . . the victim of poor timing, a bad economy, unfortunate circumstance and unfavorable numerology. His wife, the cake-craving Marie Antoinette, suffered the same fate as her husband nine months later.
Commemorate the demise of the French aristocracy with ‘Start the Revolution Without Me’ (1970), an underappreciated farce that revolves around Louis’s court and the intrigues of the French Revolution. The unlikely team of Gene Wilder and Donald Sutherland are genuinely funny together as two sets of twins separated at birth, who find themselves on opposing sides of the revolution. It’s the kind of silly wink at history that brings to mind what was best about Mel Brooks – except that this film wasn’t by Mel Brooks; it was written and directed by Bud Yorkin, who would go on to create All In The Family with Norman Lear. Orson Welles lends a certain class as the narrator – for the first 5 minutes of the film. That was all the filmmakers could afford him for.
Enjoy this clip . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Grjph8pQmPg
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
LYNCH PARTY
January 20 . .
On this day in 1946, in Missoula, Montana, director David Lynch was born. Here’s hoping he looked nothing like the newborn baby in 1977's ‘Eraserhead’.
Ah, David Lynch . . problematic prodigy of the macabre. Genius or pervert? Primitive or visionary? Tongue in cheek or genuinely demented? All, or none?
His oeuvre instantly summons dark, disturbing images. The severed ear from ‘Blue Velvet’ . . Laura Palmer’s corpse from ‘Twin Peaks’ . . Willem Dafoe’s rotting teeth from ‘Wild At Heart’.
I once attended an afternoon showing of ‘Eraserhead’ at the Beekman in New York. Some college kid had brought his elderly grandmother to see it. When I passed her in the lobby, she was quaking in her stockings, scared, disgusted and livid with her grandchild for exposing her to such disturbing – and disturbed – images. I left wondering what kind of kid would take his grandmother to see ‘Eraserhead’.
So celebrate its creator’s birthday and dive right into the mucky gray industrial dementia that is 'Eraserhead' - today's selected 'Movie A Day.' Just don’t blame me if you can’t sleep tonight. And, for God’s sake, don’t let your Grandmother see it.
Here’s a taste, if you dare . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7t2lj9sZvMM
On this day in 1946, in Missoula, Montana, director David Lynch was born. Here’s hoping he looked nothing like the newborn baby in 1977's ‘Eraserhead’.
Ah, David Lynch . . problematic prodigy of the macabre. Genius or pervert? Primitive or visionary? Tongue in cheek or genuinely demented? All, or none?
His oeuvre instantly summons dark, disturbing images. The severed ear from ‘Blue Velvet’ . . Laura Palmer’s corpse from ‘Twin Peaks’ . . Willem Dafoe’s rotting teeth from ‘Wild At Heart’.
I once attended an afternoon showing of ‘Eraserhead’ at the Beekman in New York. Some college kid had brought his elderly grandmother to see it. When I passed her in the lobby, she was quaking in her stockings, scared, disgusted and livid with her grandchild for exposing her to such disturbing – and disturbed – images. I left wondering what kind of kid would take his grandmother to see ‘Eraserhead’.
So celebrate its creator’s birthday and dive right into the mucky gray industrial dementia that is 'Eraserhead' - today's selected 'Movie A Day.' Just don’t blame me if you can’t sleep tonight. And, for God’s sake, don’t let your Grandmother see it.
Here’s a taste, if you dare . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7t2lj9sZvMM
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
A POE EXCUSE FOR A MOVIE
January 19 . . .
201 years ago today, in Boston, Edgar Poe (later Edgar Allan Poe) entered the world; neither the world nor Poe would emerge unscathed.
As a poet, he was unparalleled in American verse (‘The Raven’, ‘The Bells’). As a story teller, his influence was incalculable. He is credited with inventing the detective story (in ‘Murders in the Rue Morgue’ and ‘The Gold Bug’); he is arguably the father of modern sci-fi (see ‘The Balloon Hoax’), and his ability to summon the dark side of the human psyche (‘The Tell Tale Heart’, ‘Fall of the House of Usher’) have influenced generations of horror authors.
But his impact on the world of film has been problematic. As of this writing, very few of his stories have been filmed as he told them. Countless films carry his titles and influences, but hardly any adhere to his original plots. Roger Corman helmed an impressive series of movies inspired by Poe in the 1960s, starring Vincent Price (‘Fall of the House of Usher’, ‘Masque of the Red Death’). He even turned Poe into a comic with 1963’s ‘The Raven’ (worth watching for Peter Lorre’s droll ad libs.)
The best ‘adaptations’ of Poe – perhaps in spirit rather than substance – are Universal’s films of the 30s, most especially ‘The Black Cat’ (1934). Edgar Ulmer (who would later direct ‘Detour’) directed this masterfully perverse mixture of Satanism, psychology, incest, murder and torture, mixing elements of Art Deco and Bauhaus with élan. Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff co-star – Lugosi in a rare semi-heroic role (but still bent enough to skin Karloff alive), and Karloff as a Devil worshipper based on Alistair Crowley. Considering the censor’s heavy-handed clean-up job, the film remains impressively morbid. The actual tale of ‘The Black Cat’ is relayed more faithfully in Corman’s 1962 ‘Tales of Terror’.
Here’s a clip from the 1934 version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X9StsrNurw
201 years ago today, in Boston, Edgar Poe (later Edgar Allan Poe) entered the world; neither the world nor Poe would emerge unscathed.
As a poet, he was unparalleled in American verse (‘The Raven’, ‘The Bells’). As a story teller, his influence was incalculable. He is credited with inventing the detective story (in ‘Murders in the Rue Morgue’ and ‘The Gold Bug’); he is arguably the father of modern sci-fi (see ‘The Balloon Hoax’), and his ability to summon the dark side of the human psyche (‘The Tell Tale Heart’, ‘Fall of the House of Usher’) have influenced generations of horror authors.
But his impact on the world of film has been problematic. As of this writing, very few of his stories have been filmed as he told them. Countless films carry his titles and influences, but hardly any adhere to his original plots. Roger Corman helmed an impressive series of movies inspired by Poe in the 1960s, starring Vincent Price (‘Fall of the House of Usher’, ‘Masque of the Red Death’). He even turned Poe into a comic with 1963’s ‘The Raven’ (worth watching for Peter Lorre’s droll ad libs.)
The best ‘adaptations’ of Poe – perhaps in spirit rather than substance – are Universal’s films of the 30s, most especially ‘The Black Cat’ (1934). Edgar Ulmer (who would later direct ‘Detour’) directed this masterfully perverse mixture of Satanism, psychology, incest, murder and torture, mixing elements of Art Deco and Bauhaus with élan. Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff co-star – Lugosi in a rare semi-heroic role (but still bent enough to skin Karloff alive), and Karloff as a Devil worshipper based on Alistair Crowley. Considering the censor’s heavy-handed clean-up job, the film remains impressively morbid. The actual tale of ‘The Black Cat’ is relayed more faithfully in Corman’s 1962 ‘Tales of Terror’.
Here’s a clip from the 1934 version:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X9StsrNurw
Monday, January 18, 2010
TOM HANKS IN HAITI: A DREAM
Monday, January 18 . .
Last Night I Dreamt of Tom Hanks.
Say those words with the inflection of Meryl Streep’s delivery of “I had a farm in Africa” and you’ll have some indication of the tone of today’s entry.
I really did have a dream about Tom Hanks last night – why, I couldn’t begin to guess. But I do have a primal sort of recognition of its elements.
Here’s what I remember: In the dream, I was working – at an airport, I think – and Hanks, who for some reason was an acquaintance, asked about my mom. I told him she was OK, but that I was concerned that she was getting older, and in more pain from her hip and leg problems. (In real life, if there is such a thing, this is true. Also, Hanks is my mom’s favorite actor.)
Hanks listened sympathetically, then said, “Well, we better start driving.” The implication being that the two of us had better go cheer her up. So we drove through the evening until we reached my parents’ house. Hanks walked in and entered my parents’ bedroom, where they were watching TV. My dad – still alive in the dream – welcomed him with a booming “It really is you!”, and my mom blushed and was beside herself.
He then walked with her outside and gave her a pep talk/demonstration on how to exercise her legs and reduce her pain. She was inspired. So was I, and appreciative. When the time came to drive Hanks back to the airport, I wanted to write him a thank you note, but either the pens wouldn’t work or there wasn’t enough paper to get the job done. But he still seemed to know how much his gesture and time had meant to me and my mom.
Now then, what did this all mean? Like I said, I have no idea – but here’s my guess. Like everyone, I’ve been watching the news about the terrible events in Haiti, and wondering how things can get better, how to relieve the suffering. I don’t trust politicians. So who shows up in my dreams to relieve suffering but Tom Hanks? If any actor has the patina of everyday-Joe divinity about him, it’s Hanks. Think “The Green Mile”. Think “Forest Gump.” He’s as good a substitute for Jesus as any man I can think of. (Sorry, Pat Robertson.)
And in a deeper sense, I sometimes wonder about why – or even if – movies matter, and why they mean so much to me. Are they like dreams? Half escape/half therapy for our dark, unresolved questions? If so, maybe actors like Tom Hanks serve as our archetype angels, making things a little more manageable.
Yes, I know today’s blog deviates from the usual formula, but hey . . it’s a blog, right? – a digital diary, and that’s my entry for the day. But just so I stick to some sort of discipline, here’s my recommended movie of the day, based on my dream. I suggest ‘Joe vs. the Volcano’, not one of Hanks’ more notable efforts, but a movie not without overtones of divine intervention, unlikely blessings and random salvation. And these days, we’ll take what we can get.
Check out a memorable scene here . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1EOnVSSJYs
Last Night I Dreamt of Tom Hanks.
Say those words with the inflection of Meryl Streep’s delivery of “I had a farm in Africa” and you’ll have some indication of the tone of today’s entry.
I really did have a dream about Tom Hanks last night – why, I couldn’t begin to guess. But I do have a primal sort of recognition of its elements.
Here’s what I remember: In the dream, I was working – at an airport, I think – and Hanks, who for some reason was an acquaintance, asked about my mom. I told him she was OK, but that I was concerned that she was getting older, and in more pain from her hip and leg problems. (In real life, if there is such a thing, this is true. Also, Hanks is my mom’s favorite actor.)
Hanks listened sympathetically, then said, “Well, we better start driving.” The implication being that the two of us had better go cheer her up. So we drove through the evening until we reached my parents’ house. Hanks walked in and entered my parents’ bedroom, where they were watching TV. My dad – still alive in the dream – welcomed him with a booming “It really is you!”, and my mom blushed and was beside herself.
He then walked with her outside and gave her a pep talk/demonstration on how to exercise her legs and reduce her pain. She was inspired. So was I, and appreciative. When the time came to drive Hanks back to the airport, I wanted to write him a thank you note, but either the pens wouldn’t work or there wasn’t enough paper to get the job done. But he still seemed to know how much his gesture and time had meant to me and my mom.
Now then, what did this all mean? Like I said, I have no idea – but here’s my guess. Like everyone, I’ve been watching the news about the terrible events in Haiti, and wondering how things can get better, how to relieve the suffering. I don’t trust politicians. So who shows up in my dreams to relieve suffering but Tom Hanks? If any actor has the patina of everyday-Joe divinity about him, it’s Hanks. Think “The Green Mile”. Think “Forest Gump.” He’s as good a substitute for Jesus as any man I can think of. (Sorry, Pat Robertson.)
And in a deeper sense, I sometimes wonder about why – or even if – movies matter, and why they mean so much to me. Are they like dreams? Half escape/half therapy for our dark, unresolved questions? If so, maybe actors like Tom Hanks serve as our archetype angels, making things a little more manageable.
Yes, I know today’s blog deviates from the usual formula, but hey . . it’s a blog, right? – a digital diary, and that’s my entry for the day. But just so I stick to some sort of discipline, here’s my recommended movie of the day, based on my dream. I suggest ‘Joe vs. the Volcano’, not one of Hanks’ more notable efforts, but a movie not without overtones of divine intervention, unlikely blessings and random salvation. And these days, we’ll take what we can get.
Check out a memorable scene here . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1EOnVSSJYs
Sunday, January 17, 2010
AN AMERICAN ICON WHO WAS WHAT HE WAS
January 17 . . .
Popeye the Sailor made his official debut on this day in 1929 in hundreds of newspapers in the eclectic Thimble Theater, a modestly successful daily comic strip drawn and scripted by iconoclastic cartoonist E.C. Segar. Popeye’s first appearance was brief and dramatic – he showed up only in the final panel – but he became an instant hit with readers all across the USA. The character became so popular that Segar reformatted the strip to make Popeye the central character.
Thus began Popeye’s long and memorable career in the collective consciousness of Americans and spinach lovers everywhere, supported by a cast of eccenrics who would become icons themselves, including girlfriend (excuse me, ‘goilfriend’) Olive Oyl, adopted toddler Swee’ Pea, nemesis and romantic rival Bluto, mooching hamburger addict Wimpy, the Crony Sea Hag, and the lovable Jeep. Popeye went on to appear in a classic series of cartoons for the Fleischer brothers, where generations of fans were first introduced to Popeye’s guttural, mumbling voice and Olive Oyl’s high-pitched fluttery whine.
Years after Segar’s death, another artistic iconoclast, Robert Altman, had the crazy notion of doing a live-action film based on the character, and was savvy enough to cast Robin Williams in the title role. Altman’s ‘Popeye’ (1980) was very much based on Segar’s original vision. Williams makes a wonderfully convincing Popeye, and Shelley Duvall is Olive Oyl personified – it is quite simply the role she was born to play. Popeye is one of the strangest musical comedies ever made, with an appropriately quirky score by Harry Nilsson, featuring such endearing oddities as Olive’s ode to Bluto, “He’s Large.” See it by clicking this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Po2lG0hHFYY
A strange little movie that is a wacky universe unto itself, and a loving and respectful homage from one artistic iconoclast to another.
Popeye the Sailor made his official debut on this day in 1929 in hundreds of newspapers in the eclectic Thimble Theater, a modestly successful daily comic strip drawn and scripted by iconoclastic cartoonist E.C. Segar. Popeye’s first appearance was brief and dramatic – he showed up only in the final panel – but he became an instant hit with readers all across the USA. The character became so popular that Segar reformatted the strip to make Popeye the central character.
Thus began Popeye’s long and memorable career in the collective consciousness of Americans and spinach lovers everywhere, supported by a cast of eccenrics who would become icons themselves, including girlfriend (excuse me, ‘goilfriend’) Olive Oyl, adopted toddler Swee’ Pea, nemesis and romantic rival Bluto, mooching hamburger addict Wimpy, the Crony Sea Hag, and the lovable Jeep. Popeye went on to appear in a classic series of cartoons for the Fleischer brothers, where generations of fans were first introduced to Popeye’s guttural, mumbling voice and Olive Oyl’s high-pitched fluttery whine.
Years after Segar’s death, another artistic iconoclast, Robert Altman, had the crazy notion of doing a live-action film based on the character, and was savvy enough to cast Robin Williams in the title role. Altman’s ‘Popeye’ (1980) was very much based on Segar’s original vision. Williams makes a wonderfully convincing Popeye, and Shelley Duvall is Olive Oyl personified – it is quite simply the role she was born to play. Popeye is one of the strangest musical comedies ever made, with an appropriately quirky score by Harry Nilsson, featuring such endearing oddities as Olive’s ode to Bluto, “He’s Large.” See it by clicking this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Po2lG0hHFYY
A strange little movie that is a wacky universe unto itself, and a loving and respectful homage from one artistic iconoclast to another.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
WE'LL DRINK TO THAT . .
January 16 . . .
By and large, a dark day in American history. On this day in 1920, Prohibition was declared and officially became the law of the land. Overnight, alcohol became an illegal substance, the country went dry, and otherwise law-abiding citizens became felons, choosing to risk jail by frequenting speakeasies. It was the Golden Age of bootleggers and gangsters, and no studio of the time reflected the time with more panache and energy than the newly-formed Warner Brothers.
No gangster flick of the 30s prohibition era shot up the house like ‘The Roaring Twenties’ (1939). James Cagney, then at the height of his career as antsy screen tough guy, stars as one of 3 World War I soldiers returning home to New York, only to find rampant poverty and unemployment. Cagney finds himself reluctantly drawn into bootlegging by his ruthless friend, played by Humphrey Bogart (who always seemed to get the short end of a .38 in his co-starring roles with Cagney.) One of the greatest gangster flicks of all time, ably directed by a master, Raoul Walsh. Almost makes you nostalgic for the good ol’ days of Prohibition. Almost, but not quite.
Click here to watch the original trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQQ5uA5fob8
If you can't connect to the link, cut and paste the following into your address bar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQQ5uA5fob8
By and large, a dark day in American history. On this day in 1920, Prohibition was declared and officially became the law of the land. Overnight, alcohol became an illegal substance, the country went dry, and otherwise law-abiding citizens became felons, choosing to risk jail by frequenting speakeasies. It was the Golden Age of bootleggers and gangsters, and no studio of the time reflected the time with more panache and energy than the newly-formed Warner Brothers.
No gangster flick of the 30s prohibition era shot up the house like ‘The Roaring Twenties’ (1939). James Cagney, then at the height of his career as antsy screen tough guy, stars as one of 3 World War I soldiers returning home to New York, only to find rampant poverty and unemployment. Cagney finds himself reluctantly drawn into bootlegging by his ruthless friend, played by Humphrey Bogart (who always seemed to get the short end of a .38 in his co-starring roles with Cagney.) One of the greatest gangster flicks of all time, ably directed by a master, Raoul Walsh. Almost makes you nostalgic for the good ol’ days of Prohibition. Almost, but not quite.
Click here to watch the original trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQQ5uA5fob8
If you can't connect to the link, cut and paste the following into your address bar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQQ5uA5fob8
Friday, January 15, 2010
LATE NIGHT TV MUSINGS: LENO, PUPKIN AND GIMBLE
Friday, January 15 . . .
And the late night wars just keep getting uglier. As if the world didn’t have enough to contend with.
We’ve all heard the latest about NBC’s brilliant strategizing regarding the debacle of Jay Leno’s disastrous foray into prime time. Seems they’re going to return him to his old late night spot to appease affiliates. One person who is decidedly not appeased is Conan O’Brien, who – as of this writing – refuses to relinquish the slot he inherited from Leno.
The history of Late Night programming is littered with notable names: Johnny Carson, Steve Allen, Jack Paar, Ernie Kovacs . . . and Rupert Pupkin.
Um . . Rupert Pupkin?
In honor of the Jay/Conan feud, today’s Movie A Day salutes the institution of Late Night TV shows, and the strange cult of celebrity it can create, with Martin Scorsese’s dark comedy, ‘The King of Comedy’. Robert DeNiro inhabits one of the quirkier roles of his diverse career as comedian and late night wannabe Rupert Pupkin, who makes up in chutzpah what he lacks in talent. In a bold bid to get booked on a ‘Tonight Show’ clone, Pupkin kidnaps host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), refusing to release him until he gets booked on the show.
‘The King of Comedy’ is dark, funny, disturbing, and loaded with industry in-jokes. Scorsese nails the details, right down to the casting of real-life Tonight Show producer Freddy DeCordova, in a small role. In addition to an edgy turn by Sandra Bernhardt as Pupkin’s partner in crime, Scorsese’s most audacious move was casting Jerry Lewis in the role of Jerry Langford, a pastiche of all great talk show hosts. Originally, Johnny Carson considered playing the part himself, but bowed out, leaving the door open for Lewis – who turns in a restrained and credible performance. Restrained, indeed – he spends about half his screen time literally immobile, tied down with duct tape. And who among us hasn’t secretly yearned at some point to tie Lewis down with duct tape?
Myself, I never found either Leno or O’Brien to be funny. My taste ran to the great, lamented parody of late night, ‘Fernwood Tonight’, a spin-off of the even loopier ‘Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman’. ‘Fernwood Tonight’ starred Martin Mull (as unctuous chain-smoking host Barth Gimble), and skewered the format while saluting it at the same time. Way ahead of (or behind?) its time. NBC could do a lot worse than buying up the old shows and airing them instead of Leno’s white-bread monologues.
Check out a clip from ‘The King of Comedy’ at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eU6TBPQRM0c&feature=related
Then, sample a taste of ‘Fernwood Tonight’: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_iYmu_7zR4
And the late night wars just keep getting uglier. As if the world didn’t have enough to contend with.
We’ve all heard the latest about NBC’s brilliant strategizing regarding the debacle of Jay Leno’s disastrous foray into prime time. Seems they’re going to return him to his old late night spot to appease affiliates. One person who is decidedly not appeased is Conan O’Brien, who – as of this writing – refuses to relinquish the slot he inherited from Leno.
The history of Late Night programming is littered with notable names: Johnny Carson, Steve Allen, Jack Paar, Ernie Kovacs . . . and Rupert Pupkin.
Um . . Rupert Pupkin?
In honor of the Jay/Conan feud, today’s Movie A Day salutes the institution of Late Night TV shows, and the strange cult of celebrity it can create, with Martin Scorsese’s dark comedy, ‘The King of Comedy’. Robert DeNiro inhabits one of the quirkier roles of his diverse career as comedian and late night wannabe Rupert Pupkin, who makes up in chutzpah what he lacks in talent. In a bold bid to get booked on a ‘Tonight Show’ clone, Pupkin kidnaps host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), refusing to release him until he gets booked on the show.
‘The King of Comedy’ is dark, funny, disturbing, and loaded with industry in-jokes. Scorsese nails the details, right down to the casting of real-life Tonight Show producer Freddy DeCordova, in a small role. In addition to an edgy turn by Sandra Bernhardt as Pupkin’s partner in crime, Scorsese’s most audacious move was casting Jerry Lewis in the role of Jerry Langford, a pastiche of all great talk show hosts. Originally, Johnny Carson considered playing the part himself, but bowed out, leaving the door open for Lewis – who turns in a restrained and credible performance. Restrained, indeed – he spends about half his screen time literally immobile, tied down with duct tape. And who among us hasn’t secretly yearned at some point to tie Lewis down with duct tape?
Myself, I never found either Leno or O’Brien to be funny. My taste ran to the great, lamented parody of late night, ‘Fernwood Tonight’, a spin-off of the even loopier ‘Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman’. ‘Fernwood Tonight’ starred Martin Mull (as unctuous chain-smoking host Barth Gimble), and skewered the format while saluting it at the same time. Way ahead of (or behind?) its time. NBC could do a lot worse than buying up the old shows and airing them instead of Leno’s white-bread monologues.
Check out a clip from ‘The King of Comedy’ at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eU6TBPQRM0c&feature=related
Then, sample a taste of ‘Fernwood Tonight’: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_iYmu_7zR4
Thursday, January 14, 2010
The Roach That Conquered Hollywood
Today, January 14, marks the birth date of one of filmdom’s true forgotten visionaries.
Hal Roach was born this day in Elmira, New York. As a boy, he saw a live presentation by humorist Mark Twain, and a lifelong appreciation of comedy took root. He led an adventurous youth, even visiting Alaska, before finding himself in Hollywood in 1912, where he began work as a film extra, striking up a friendship with an up-and-coming comic named Harold Lloyd. When he fell into some money in 1915, Roach thought he’d try producing short comedies.
He had a golden touch, jump-starting the careers of such notable silent film stars as Harold Lloyd, Charley Chase and Harry Langdon. But his most inspired stroke was pairing a thin, struggling British comic named Arthur Stanley Jefferson (aka Stan Laurel) with a portly film heavy, Oliver Hardy. Thus was born arguably the most successful and beloved comedy team of all time.
Roach continued producing Laurel & Hardy shorts and features, and, if he’s remembered today at all, that’s what most people recall. But he was more adventuresome and ambitious, producing features as diverse as ‘One Million Years B.C.’, ‘Topper’ and more.
But Roach’s finest – and most atypical film – is 1939’s ‘Of Mice and Men’, directed by Lewis Milestone, and starring Burgess Meredith and Lon Chaney, Jr. as the ill-fated George and Lennie, two itinerant farm workers in California’s Salinas Valley. The two mismatched friends share a dream of better days, and come close to seeing it to fruition. Poetic, sober, heartbreaking, ‘Of Mice and Men’ became a classic. It also launched the career of young Chaney, who up until that point had been struggling in walk-ons in B Westerns.
Click here to see a clip. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXOXlPBjNSM
Hal Roach was born this day in Elmira, New York. As a boy, he saw a live presentation by humorist Mark Twain, and a lifelong appreciation of comedy took root. He led an adventurous youth, even visiting Alaska, before finding himself in Hollywood in 1912, where he began work as a film extra, striking up a friendship with an up-and-coming comic named Harold Lloyd. When he fell into some money in 1915, Roach thought he’d try producing short comedies.
He had a golden touch, jump-starting the careers of such notable silent film stars as Harold Lloyd, Charley Chase and Harry Langdon. But his most inspired stroke was pairing a thin, struggling British comic named Arthur Stanley Jefferson (aka Stan Laurel) with a portly film heavy, Oliver Hardy. Thus was born arguably the most successful and beloved comedy team of all time.
Roach continued producing Laurel & Hardy shorts and features, and, if he’s remembered today at all, that’s what most people recall. But he was more adventuresome and ambitious, producing features as diverse as ‘One Million Years B.C.’, ‘Topper’ and more.
But Roach’s finest – and most atypical film – is 1939’s ‘Of Mice and Men’, directed by Lewis Milestone, and starring Burgess Meredith and Lon Chaney, Jr. as the ill-fated George and Lennie, two itinerant farm workers in California’s Salinas Valley. The two mismatched friends share a dream of better days, and come close to seeing it to fruition. Poetic, sober, heartbreaking, ‘Of Mice and Men’ became a classic. It also launched the career of young Chaney, who up until that point had been struggling in walk-ons in B Westerns.
Click here to see a clip. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXOXlPBjNSM
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
BLAME SOMEONE ELSE DAY
Today, January 13, is National Blame Someone Else Day.
But, hey, don’t blame me - I didn’t name it.
Observe the occasion by passing gas in a crowded elevator and scowling at the person standing next to you.
Or, watch Alfred Hitchcock’s film, ‘The Wrong Man’ (1956). In a noirish, documentary-style change-of-pace for the Master, Hitchcock decided to film a story that actually happened, about a young jazz musician and family man who is falsely blamed for a crime committed by someone else. Shot in a calculated, cool, somber style, with none of Hitch’s usual passages of brevity, it’s one of his lesser-seen films. Henry Fonda stars as the hapless victim of mistaken identity. A chilling and still-too-relevant indictment of a ‘justice’ system gone awry.
Here's a link to watch the original trailer . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUiLnoqPhiw
But, hey, don’t blame me - I didn’t name it.
Observe the occasion by passing gas in a crowded elevator and scowling at the person standing next to you.
Or, watch Alfred Hitchcock’s film, ‘The Wrong Man’ (1956). In a noirish, documentary-style change-of-pace for the Master, Hitchcock decided to film a story that actually happened, about a young jazz musician and family man who is falsely blamed for a crime committed by someone else. Shot in a calculated, cool, somber style, with none of Hitch’s usual passages of brevity, it’s one of his lesser-seen films. Henry Fonda stars as the hapless victim of mistaken identity. A chilling and still-too-relevant indictment of a ‘justice’ system gone awry.
Here's a link to watch the original trailer . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUiLnoqPhiw
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
HOLY HOLLYWOOD, BATMAN - WE'RE ON THE BIG SCREEN!
Tuesday, January 12 . . . Here in Austin, Texas, we have a wonderful old movie theater, The Paramount. It’s the kind of theater they used to call a palace, and it still wears the patina of prestige. It was built back in the days when you could see two movies, a newsreel, a short subject, a cartoon and coming attractions for less than a buck. They use it now for stage shows, mostly . . . last week Woody Allen played there with his New Orleans Jazz Band.
Imagine. Woody Allen in Texas. That happens about as often as a visit from Batman.
Which is precisely what happened here on July 30, in 1966. The Paramount hosted the world premiere of the movie, ‘Batman: The Movie’.
No, not the dark Tim Burton version starring Michael Keaton. This is the version that starred Adam West and Burt Ward, and was a spin-off from the then-phenomenally popular ABC TV series.
ABC Television Network was in dire straits in 1966, running a distant 3rd place in the ratings race. The underdog network was willing to try anything to win over new, younger viewers – including making the first TV series about a comic book hero since Superman was hoisted on invisible wires in the 50s.
On this day in 1966, Batman, the TV show, premiered on ABC – a tongue-in-cheek, anything-goes series showcasing the adventures of Gotham City’s Caped Crusader. Gone was any semblance of dark, noirish elements of the original Bob Kane comic strip – replaced by bright candy-colors, outrageously bad puns, wildly tilted camera angles, cheesy sets, “special guest villains” and over-the-top but winking emoting by series stars Adam West (as millionaire Bruce Wayne, aka Batman) and Burt Ward (youthful ward, Robin.) To just about everyone’s surprise, the camp show became a runaway hit, appealing to both youngsters and savvy adults.
It was almost inevitable that a quickie feature-length film would be made to cash in on the phenomenon before it died. The movie has its admirers; there is a small but vocal cult who considers it superior to Tim Burton’s dark 1989 version. Be your own judge. But it’s a refreshing and evocative journey back to the campy pop sensibilities of the ‘60’s. Boff! Thwack! Socko! Crunch!
Check out this fab clip from Batman: The Movie . . .http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0UJaprpxrk
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
Imagine. Woody Allen in Texas. That happens about as often as a visit from Batman.
Which is precisely what happened here on July 30, in 1966. The Paramount hosted the world premiere of the movie, ‘Batman: The Movie’.
No, not the dark Tim Burton version starring Michael Keaton. This is the version that starred Adam West and Burt Ward, and was a spin-off from the then-phenomenally popular ABC TV series.
ABC Television Network was in dire straits in 1966, running a distant 3rd place in the ratings race. The underdog network was willing to try anything to win over new, younger viewers – including making the first TV series about a comic book hero since Superman was hoisted on invisible wires in the 50s.
On this day in 1966, Batman, the TV show, premiered on ABC – a tongue-in-cheek, anything-goes series showcasing the adventures of Gotham City’s Caped Crusader. Gone was any semblance of dark, noirish elements of the original Bob Kane comic strip – replaced by bright candy-colors, outrageously bad puns, wildly tilted camera angles, cheesy sets, “special guest villains” and over-the-top but winking emoting by series stars Adam West (as millionaire Bruce Wayne, aka Batman) and Burt Ward (youthful ward, Robin.) To just about everyone’s surprise, the camp show became a runaway hit, appealing to both youngsters and savvy adults.
It was almost inevitable that a quickie feature-length film would be made to cash in on the phenomenon before it died. The movie has its admirers; there is a small but vocal cult who considers it superior to Tim Burton’s dark 1989 version. Be your own judge. But it’s a refreshing and evocative journey back to the campy pop sensibilities of the ‘60’s. Boff! Thwack! Socko! Crunch!
Check out this fab clip from Batman: The Movie . . .http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0UJaprpxrk
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
Monday, January 11, 2010
"Who knows from Albania?"
On this day in 1946, the People’s Republic of Albania was officially established. Happy birthday, Albania.
Commemorate the momentous anniversary with Barry Levinson’s biting political comedy, ‘Wag The Dog’ (1997). Robert DeNiro stars as Capitol Hill spin doctor extraordinaire Conrad Brean, who gets called in to the White House to manage a PR crisis: The President has been caught having a sexual liaison, and the country needs to be distracted from the issue. (Right. As if that could ever happen.)
Conrad decides what the country needs is a huge distraction – like, say, maybe going to war. Not a real war, God forbid, but a staged, smoke-and-mirrors facsimile to deflect public attention, complete with false rumors, false denials, faked video footage, and a patriotic anthem composed by Willie Nelson. So Brean concocts a diversionary phony war with Albania.
“Why Albania?” asks an aide (Anne Heche).
“Why not? What do you know about ‘em?”
“Nothing.”
"Precisely. They seem shifty. They seem standoffish. I mean, who knows from Albania? Who trusts Albanians?”
Brean recruits the services of one Stanley Motss (Dustin Hoffman, doing a deadly accurate impression of producer Robert Evans) to “produce the pageant”. Motss delivers the goods, and more. A little too much more than for his own good.
‘Wag The Dog’ left a bitter taste in the public’s mouth when it was initially released; it hit just a little too close to the truth, and the public was both weary and wary of the then-ongoing Monica Lewinsky/Bill Clinton scandal. But seen on the small screen years later, with Hilary Henkin and David Mamet’s screenplay properly distanced from history, ‘Wag The Dog’ emerges as a delightfully subversive little satire.
But rest easy. It’s just a fable. It could never really happen in America.
No. Really.
Here's a look at the original trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnSauj2855M
(If link fails, just copy and paste http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnSauj2855M to the website address bar above.)
Commemorate the momentous anniversary with Barry Levinson’s biting political comedy, ‘Wag The Dog’ (1997). Robert DeNiro stars as Capitol Hill spin doctor extraordinaire Conrad Brean, who gets called in to the White House to manage a PR crisis: The President has been caught having a sexual liaison, and the country needs to be distracted from the issue. (Right. As if that could ever happen.)
Conrad decides what the country needs is a huge distraction – like, say, maybe going to war. Not a real war, God forbid, but a staged, smoke-and-mirrors facsimile to deflect public attention, complete with false rumors, false denials, faked video footage, and a patriotic anthem composed by Willie Nelson. So Brean concocts a diversionary phony war with Albania.
“Why Albania?” asks an aide (Anne Heche).
“Why not? What do you know about ‘em?”
“Nothing.”
"Precisely. They seem shifty. They seem standoffish. I mean, who knows from Albania? Who trusts Albanians?”
Brean recruits the services of one Stanley Motss (Dustin Hoffman, doing a deadly accurate impression of producer Robert Evans) to “produce the pageant”. Motss delivers the goods, and more. A little too much more than for his own good.
‘Wag The Dog’ left a bitter taste in the public’s mouth when it was initially released; it hit just a little too close to the truth, and the public was both weary and wary of the then-ongoing Monica Lewinsky/Bill Clinton scandal. But seen on the small screen years later, with Hilary Henkin and David Mamet’s screenplay properly distanced from history, ‘Wag The Dog’ emerges as a delightfully subversive little satire.
But rest easy. It’s just a fable. It could never really happen in America.
No. Really.
Here's a look at the original trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnSauj2855M
(If link fails, just copy and paste http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EnSauj2855M to the website address bar above.)
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Oil's Well That Ends Well
It's a sunny day today in Austin, January 10, and the temperature is up to a toasty 45 degrees.
Here's a few cinematic celebrations commemorating this day in history . .
On this day in 1901, a drilling derrick at Spindletop Hill near Beaumont Texas erupted, spewing a gusher of oil. It signaled the change from Texas as a Cattle State into an Oil Giant. Commemorate the event by watching James Dean strike it rich as surly ranch hand-turned-Oil Baron Jett Rink in George Stevens' epic Lone Star soap opera, 'Giant' (1956), co-starring Rock Hudson and Elizabether Taylor. Also featured are Dean's supporting players from 'Rebel Without A Cause', Sal Mineo and Dennis Hopper (impossibly young and clean cut!) Dean's performance in 'Giant' was his last, and his most problematic. He's brilliant in the first half of the film - brooding, unpredictable, rebelious. But his makeup and emoting as an embittered middle-aged tycoon in the 2nd half conjures unfortunate comparisons to William Shatner in the Star Trek episode 'The Deadly Years'.
Still, the scene where Dean strikes pay dirt for the first time is classic, primal stuff - with him being baptized in black ooze, arms poised heavenward, as he's being showered in oil.
Want to watch the trailer? Here's where to go: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2x6AT4mr3o
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
Also on this date, in 1863 the first public subway system opened in London. The next day, the first mugging was reported. Crime and subways go together like ham and eggs, and nowhere is that better illustrated than in the 1974 nail-biter 'The Taking of Pelham 123' , starring Walter Matthau as a grizzled New York City cop trying to thwart prototypical urban terrorist Robert Shaw. Gritty, suspenseful and engaging, the story was remade last year starring Denzel Washington, but the original is superior.
And happy birthday today to Ray Bolger, born in 1903, who co-starred as The Scarecrow in 'The Wizard of Oz' (1939) with Judy Garland. For a free copy of my book, 'A Movie A Day', be the first to send me an email and tell me what other musical co-starred Garland and Bolger! Reach me at sduhler@aol.com.
Here's a few cinematic celebrations commemorating this day in history . .
On this day in 1901, a drilling derrick at Spindletop Hill near Beaumont Texas erupted, spewing a gusher of oil. It signaled the change from Texas as a Cattle State into an Oil Giant. Commemorate the event by watching James Dean strike it rich as surly ranch hand-turned-Oil Baron Jett Rink in George Stevens' epic Lone Star soap opera, 'Giant' (1956), co-starring Rock Hudson and Elizabether Taylor. Also featured are Dean's supporting players from 'Rebel Without A Cause', Sal Mineo and Dennis Hopper (impossibly young and clean cut!) Dean's performance in 'Giant' was his last, and his most problematic. He's brilliant in the first half of the film - brooding, unpredictable, rebelious. But his makeup and emoting as an embittered middle-aged tycoon in the 2nd half conjures unfortunate comparisons to William Shatner in the Star Trek episode 'The Deadly Years'.
Still, the scene where Dean strikes pay dirt for the first time is classic, primal stuff - with him being baptized in black ooze, arms poised heavenward, as he's being showered in oil.
Want to watch the trailer? Here's where to go: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2x6AT4mr3o
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
Also on this date, in 1863 the first public subway system opened in London. The next day, the first mugging was reported. Crime and subways go together like ham and eggs, and nowhere is that better illustrated than in the 1974 nail-biter 'The Taking of Pelham 123' , starring Walter Matthau as a grizzled New York City cop trying to thwart prototypical urban terrorist Robert Shaw. Gritty, suspenseful and engaging, the story was remade last year starring Denzel Washington, but the original is superior.
And happy birthday today to Ray Bolger, born in 1903, who co-starred as The Scarecrow in 'The Wizard of Oz' (1939) with Judy Garland. For a free copy of my book, 'A Movie A Day', be the first to send me an email and tell me what other musical co-starred Garland and Bolger! Reach me at sduhler@aol.com.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thoughts on Sneak Previews, 'Up In The Air' . . and 'Rocky'
A few random thoughts before today's 'Movie A Day' . .
We went to a 'sneak preview' of Jeff Bridges' new 'Crazy Heart' last night, except there was more 'sneak' than 'preview' involved in the evening. It was one of those situations where the studio publicists give out 500 tickets for 200 seats. There is a certain seat-filling logic to that mercenary approach, unless, of course, you're #499 in line. Rather than sit with our nose a scant two inches from the screen or find ourselves sitting on a stranger's lap, we opted to skip the movie, and found ourselves in an adjacent vacated theater that was showing 'Up In The Air'. We had time to kill, so we thought we'd give it a shot, and for the most part were glad we did.
Is George Clooney the new Cary Grant? He's got charm to spare, and can run the gamut of emotions from A to B (to steal a line Dorothy Parker said about Katherine Hepburn.) 'UITA' was a tad long, but filling in a lite snack kinda way. I'm for any movie these days with a scintilla of wit, and nary a car chase to be seen for the duration of its running time. 'Up In The Air' has the patina of a slightly jaded and timely Frank Capra exercise, in a pleasant way. Eclectic gripe, tho: Where the hell did they dredge up that song score?
OK, on to today's 'Movie A Day . . .
January 9 . . 'A Rocky Start'
On this day in 1976, after years of trying to get his screenplay off the ground, the then-unknown Sylvester Stallone finally began shooting a movie that would become his ticket to stardom and his one inarguable masterpiece - a simple tale of a "ham and eggs" boxer who gets a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship and finds love. Stallone had shopped his story around Hollywood with the proviso that he star in it, as well. His perseverance paid off in a big way; the low-budget movie became a box office smash, surprising industry wags by winning an Oscar for Best Picture, and spawning a jaw-dropping 168 sequels. (OK, so it was only 5 . . . )
Stallone never managed to top 'Rocky' (1976), one of the great 'underdog' movies of all time. He wrote himself the best role of his career as simple-minded boxer with a heart of gold, Rocky Balboa. The sequels got worse and worse, but the original is a genuine '70's cultural touchstone, and still packs an uplifting emotional punch.
Yo! Check out the original trailer by clicking here! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8DlBN_LLiA
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
We went to a 'sneak preview' of Jeff Bridges' new 'Crazy Heart' last night, except there was more 'sneak' than 'preview' involved in the evening. It was one of those situations where the studio publicists give out 500 tickets for 200 seats. There is a certain seat-filling logic to that mercenary approach, unless, of course, you're #499 in line. Rather than sit with our nose a scant two inches from the screen or find ourselves sitting on a stranger's lap, we opted to skip the movie, and found ourselves in an adjacent vacated theater that was showing 'Up In The Air'. We had time to kill, so we thought we'd give it a shot, and for the most part were glad we did.
Is George Clooney the new Cary Grant? He's got charm to spare, and can run the gamut of emotions from A to B (to steal a line Dorothy Parker said about Katherine Hepburn.) 'UITA' was a tad long, but filling in a lite snack kinda way. I'm for any movie these days with a scintilla of wit, and nary a car chase to be seen for the duration of its running time. 'Up In The Air' has the patina of a slightly jaded and timely Frank Capra exercise, in a pleasant way. Eclectic gripe, tho: Where the hell did they dredge up that song score?
OK, on to today's 'Movie A Day . . .
January 9 . . 'A Rocky Start'
On this day in 1976, after years of trying to get his screenplay off the ground, the then-unknown Sylvester Stallone finally began shooting a movie that would become his ticket to stardom and his one inarguable masterpiece - a simple tale of a "ham and eggs" boxer who gets a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship and finds love. Stallone had shopped his story around Hollywood with the proviso that he star in it, as well. His perseverance paid off in a big way; the low-budget movie became a box office smash, surprising industry wags by winning an Oscar for Best Picture, and spawning a jaw-dropping 168 sequels. (OK, so it was only 5 . . . )
Stallone never managed to top 'Rocky' (1976), one of the great 'underdog' movies of all time. He wrote himself the best role of his career as simple-minded boxer with a heart of gold, Rocky Balboa. The sequels got worse and worse, but the original is a genuine '70's cultural touchstone, and still packs an uplifting emotional punch.
Yo! Check out the original trailer by clicking here! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8DlBN_LLiA
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
Friday, January 8, 2010
Happy Birthday Elvis
OK . . testing . . testing . . is this thing on?
Welcome to the first official installment of my blog 'A Movie A Day'. It's January 8, 2010. Happy 75th birthday, Elvis.
What's this new blog series about? Well, a few things will remain constant, hopefully. First and foremost, each blog will at least live up to its name by at least mentioning A Movie A Day. I may veer off into occasional tangents and rants and daydreams on other subjects, but I'll try to keep some of my focus on the task at hand: Selecting a daily movie that ties into that day in history. And for this first edition, I figured I'd do a li'l celebratory take on the occassion of Elvis' birthday, focusing on his (sometimes problematic) movie career. So fix yourself a fried banana sandwich and ask yourself the question . . .
Could Elvis act?
That's kind of like asking whether or not Einstein could play basketball. It's kind of a moot question. Elvis was...well, Elvis!And Elvis Aron Presley was born on this day in 1935 in Tupelo, Mississippi; his twin brother, Jesse Goran, died in childbirth.
If he'd never made a single Hollywood movie his reputation would still be undiminished. But, for better or for worse (and mostly worse), Elvis did make movies. As an actor, he lacked nuance, depth, shading, decent roles, diction, and timing; on the plus side, he had a face like a trailer park Adonis (helped along with a streamlined nose job and jet-black dyed hair) and undeniable charisma. And in Hollywood, those two out of eight ain't bad.
For a while, Elvis strove to be taken seriously as an actor. At his audition for producer Hal Wallis, it's been said that he reenacted James Dean's entire part from Rebel Without a Cause, mumbling in his Mississippi drawl. He looks adrift in his first film role, as Richard Egan's kid brother in Love Me Tender (1956). He even got a death scene at the end. But Hollywood never quite knew how to handle Elvis—and vice versa--and Col. Tom Parker didn't want to tinker with a successful franchise. And so began the homogenization and neutering of Elvis, as he appeared in a series of films that became more formulaic and limp as he grew increasingly indifferent, finally walking through the interchangeable parts in a detached, dismissive haze.
But when he was young, lean, and hungry the charisma carried him. And he occasionally tapped into his own primal appeal in such stretches as King Creole (1958) and Wild in the Country (1961). But his best film, both musically and dramatically, is Jailhouse Rock (1957), made when he still gave a damn and had something to prove. Elvis plays Vince Everett, a nice enough kid who lands in prison after he accidentally kills a man in a bar fight. Elvis was still young and beautiful, and got to do all the by-now-patented Elvis-isms. He rocked, he crooned; he was shy and awkward; he was tough and tender; he was a hillbilly juvenile delinquent with a sneer that was as endearing to young girls as it was threatening to their parents. His rocking version of “You're So Square” in trunks by the swimming pool is a highlight, as is the iconic title number. (Contrary to popular myth, Elvis did not choreograph the other dancers in the famous “Jailhouse Rock” dance sequence, but the set piece was structured around his moves.
Check out the sequence here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRu3tw9fYxE
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
--------------------------
One last thought on E: On the occassion of his death, the press asked everyone who ever knew him to comment. My favorite quote on him came from John Lennon: "Elvis died the day he joined the Army."
--------------------------
I look forward to your feedback, comments, suggestions, etc. on 'A Movie A Day'. And please check out Tripod Productions' audio show, 'A Movie A Day', at www.tripodproductions.net.
Later.
Welcome to the first official installment of my blog 'A Movie A Day'. It's January 8, 2010. Happy 75th birthday, Elvis.
What's this new blog series about? Well, a few things will remain constant, hopefully. First and foremost, each blog will at least live up to its name by at least mentioning A Movie A Day. I may veer off into occasional tangents and rants and daydreams on other subjects, but I'll try to keep some of my focus on the task at hand: Selecting a daily movie that ties into that day in history. And for this first edition, I figured I'd do a li'l celebratory take on the occassion of Elvis' birthday, focusing on his (sometimes problematic) movie career. So fix yourself a fried banana sandwich and ask yourself the question . . .
Could Elvis act?
That's kind of like asking whether or not Einstein could play basketball. It's kind of a moot question. Elvis was...well, Elvis!And Elvis Aron Presley was born on this day in 1935 in Tupelo, Mississippi; his twin brother, Jesse Goran, died in childbirth.
If he'd never made a single Hollywood movie his reputation would still be undiminished. But, for better or for worse (and mostly worse), Elvis did make movies. As an actor, he lacked nuance, depth, shading, decent roles, diction, and timing; on the plus side, he had a face like a trailer park Adonis (helped along with a streamlined nose job and jet-black dyed hair) and undeniable charisma. And in Hollywood, those two out of eight ain't bad.
For a while, Elvis strove to be taken seriously as an actor. At his audition for producer Hal Wallis, it's been said that he reenacted James Dean's entire part from Rebel Without a Cause, mumbling in his Mississippi drawl. He looks adrift in his first film role, as Richard Egan's kid brother in Love Me Tender (1956). He even got a death scene at the end. But Hollywood never quite knew how to handle Elvis—and vice versa--and Col. Tom Parker didn't want to tinker with a successful franchise. And so began the homogenization and neutering of Elvis, as he appeared in a series of films that became more formulaic and limp as he grew increasingly indifferent, finally walking through the interchangeable parts in a detached, dismissive haze.
But when he was young, lean, and hungry the charisma carried him. And he occasionally tapped into his own primal appeal in such stretches as King Creole (1958) and Wild in the Country (1961). But his best film, both musically and dramatically, is Jailhouse Rock (1957), made when he still gave a damn and had something to prove. Elvis plays Vince Everett, a nice enough kid who lands in prison after he accidentally kills a man in a bar fight. Elvis was still young and beautiful, and got to do all the by-now-patented Elvis-isms. He rocked, he crooned; he was shy and awkward; he was tough and tender; he was a hillbilly juvenile delinquent with a sneer that was as endearing to young girls as it was threatening to their parents. His rocking version of “You're So Square” in trunks by the swimming pool is a highlight, as is the iconic title number. (Contrary to popular myth, Elvis did not choreograph the other dancers in the famous “Jailhouse Rock” dance sequence, but the set piece was structured around his moves.
Check out the sequence here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRu3tw9fYxE
(If link fails, just copy and paste to the website address bar above.)
--------------------------
One last thought on E: On the occassion of his death, the press asked everyone who ever knew him to comment. My favorite quote on him came from John Lennon: "Elvis died the day he joined the Army."
--------------------------
I look forward to your feedback, comments, suggestions, etc. on 'A Movie A Day'. And please check out Tripod Productions' audio show, 'A Movie A Day', at www.tripodproductions.net.
Later.
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