HAIL MARY

February 8 . . .

Has any contemporary American actress aged as well as Mary Steenburgen? Happy 57th birthday today to Mary Steenburgen, one of the most underated actresses of the past 30 years. If anyone has aged more gracefully than Ms. Steenburgen, I don’t know who it is.

She shows up these days mostly in supporting roles, but she came out of the gate as a leading lady in 1978’s ‘Goin’ South’. Director and star Jack Nicholson recognized her unique qualities and cast her as the feisty frontier feminist who saves Nicholson’s rascally outlaw from the gallows by marrying him. The movie was ragged but did have a certain no’oblese oblige charm to it – thanks mostly to the screwy chemistry between Steenburgen and Nicholson. Steenburgen projected the qualities which would become her calling card – independence, eccentricity, resolve, vulnerability, and a certain quirky humor. Diminunative but commanding, she stole the spotlight out from under Nicholson – no small feat for such small feet.

She went on to cover a diverse spectrum of roles – as author Marjorie Kinnin Rawlins in ‘Cross Creek’ (boasting a great supporting turn from Rip Torn), as Paul LeMat’s disenchanted wife in ‘Melvin and Howard’, . But my favorite Steenburgen performance is her turn in the wonderful low budget, hi-concept sci-fi romance, ‘Time After Time’, where she first met future husband (or future ex-husband) Malcolm McDowell.

McDowell plays author H.G. Wells, who finds himself transported from Victorian London via his own time machine to contemporary San Francisco, in search of Jack the Ripper, whom he’s inadvertently set loose in the 20th Century. The out-of-time-and-place Wells meets up with Steenburgen’s feminist bank teller, who is immediately attracted to his little-boy-lost vulnerability, and sparks fly.

The sparks are quite palpable on the screen. Steenburgen later confessed that the restaurant scene where the two are getting acquainted was when McDowell announced his real-life love for her, and her awkward nervousness in the scene is genuine. The two actors possess a wonderful chemistry and rapport, exuding vulnerability and mutual attraction, and their romance is funny, touching and affecting.

In the intervening years Steenburgen has evolved from waifish to regal, but has never lost her ability to command the camera’s attention by seemingly shying away from it. Check out her coquettish charm in this clip from ‘Time After Time’ . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zD39rK1uSww

BEATLES INVADE AMERICA

February 7 . . .


On this day, on a cold winter morning in 1964 after a long trans-Atlantic flight on BEA airlines, the Beatles arrived at JFK Airport for the first of 3 scheduled appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show – and Beatlemania erupted in the USA. A crowd of over 3,000 – mostly teenage girls – was on hand to welcome them. Before they sang a note, the group charmed the jaded Big Apple reporters at the airport with their repartee and witty, off-the-cuff answers to their demeaning questions:

“Will you sing for us?”

John: “No, we need money first.”

“We hear that Detroit’s organizing a ‘Stamp Out The Beatles’ campaign. What are you going to do?”

Paul: “We’re putting together a ‘Stamp Out Detroit’ campaign.

“Do you ever get haircuts?”

George: “I had one yesterday.”

“What do you think of Beethoven?”

Ringo: “He’s great. ‘Specially his poems.”

“How do you find America?”

John: “Turn left at Greenland.”

Celebrate the beguiling phenomenon that was Beatlemania – magically evoked in ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ (1964), the group’s unexpectedly inventive and funny film debut. Andrew Sarris famously called the film “the Citizen Kane of jukebox musicals”, but it’s a lot more than that lofty and facile description would imply. Initially planned as a black-and-white quickie exploitation flick to cash in on the group’s popularity, ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ transcended its purpose and its genre to become a buoyant masterpiece. Filmed as a faux-verite ‘day in the life’ of the group (written by fellow Liverpudlian Alan Owen), ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ managed to capture pop culture lightning in a bottle, portraying the Beatles as a kind of mod, musical version of the Marx Brothers.

Director Richard Lester made the most of his limited resources; the film is brimming with energy and inventive sight gags. His use of hand-held cameras and framing of musical sequences served as a virtual Bible for future music videos.

‘A Hard Day’s Night’ is packed with memorable bits: The exhilarating ‘Can’t By Me Love’ montage with the group cavorting in an open field (“Sorry we hurt your field, mister.”); George’s deadpan confrontation with a stiff-shirted marketing guru; and, best of all, Ringo’s wistful solo sojourn beside the River Thames. (He later confessed to being hung over during the shooting of that sequence.)

At once a vivid snapshot of a long-ago era and still-fresh musical comedy, ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ remains The Beatles’ most enchanting and enduring cinematic legacy.

Here's a special treat! Check out today's 'Movie A Day With Joel Block' Radio Show - all about The Beatles - by clicking here . .

Feb 7th

Watch the trailer by clicking here . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0eJEX5c1sM

BIRTHDAY BABE

February 6 . . .

Happy 115th birthday today to the ‘Sultan of Swat’, George Herman ‘Babe’ Ruth, born in Baltimore, Maryland, this day in 1895. He endured a troubled childhood – abandoned by his parents and left to be raised by priests – and went on to become one of the ultimate sports icons of all time. In his twenty-two major league seasons he hit 714 home runs and played in 10 World Series. And, by all accounts, he was one of the most colorful sports heroes ever, with a hearty, gluttonous appetite for life.

He’s been the subject of two very different screen bios – the highly fictionalized whitewash, ‘The Babe Ruth Story’ (1948), starring William Bendix, and the more realistic, warts-‘n-all portrait in ‘The Babe’ (1991). Bendix played the Babe as a simpleton – gifted, good-hearted oaf. John Goodman delivers a splendid, big-barreled performance as the life-grabbing, hard hitting (in more ways than one) Ruth, while still maintaining the geniality that the Babe projected. Here he emerges as a glutton for life who abuses alcohol, has outbursts of violence, and cheats on his wife. If that’s not the makings of an American sports icon, I don’t know what is.

‘The Babe’ is a surprisingly affecting sports movie, even if you don’t know a ball from a strike. (If you’d like to see how the real Babe fared in front of a movie camera, catch 1942’s ‘Pride of the Yankees’ with Gary Cooper as Lou Gehrig and Ruth appearing in a cameo as himself.)

For a real change of pace, check out this old Vitaphone short with the real Babe starring as himself. Sure, he could hit a ball . . but could he act, or write a song? Judge for yourself!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLhV72is82A&feature=PlayList&p=017107D11F3C99B2&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=5

GENERALLY SPEAKING, A MASTERPIECE

February 5 . .

The greatest film comedy ever? That’s like Sophie’s Choice – an impossible conundrum to resolve. Somebody’s going to get the short end.

But if I had to choose one film comedy over all others – the one I’d most like to have on my desert island DVD player – it would be ‘The General’ (1927).

On this day in 1927, silent film clown and genius Buster Keaton released his masterpiece, ‘The General’, possibly the greatest silent comedy of all time – and it sank at the box office like a lead pellet down a bottle of Prell.

During the Civil War, young Southerner Johnny Gray (Keaton) risks his life as he pursues his beloved railway engine, stolen by Northern spies. ‘The General’ has it all – brilliant comedy, suspense, action, unbelievably enveloping period detail, a love story, and the single longest sustained chase ever put on film. It also has the single most expensive visual joke in the history of movies – a steam locomotive crossing a wooden bridge and collapsing into the river below.

Seen today, ‘The General’ is still brilliantly inventive. The period detail is faithfully recreated – you’d swear it was literally filmed during the Civil War. The images look like Mathew Brady daguerreotypes come to life.

Sadly, not long after the failure of this movie, Keaton’s career began its long decline; by the 1930s, he was an alcoholic, confined for a time to a sanitarium, and had lost creative control of his movies. His marriage collapsed, his children were taken from him (and their names changed), and he was reduced to playing second banana to Jimmy Durante. Keaton did live long enough to see a revival of interest and appreciation of his work throughout the 60s, up until his death in 1966.

He often cited ‘The General’ as his favorite among his movies. Unfortunately, this masterpiece fell into the public domain many years ago and has been dubbed many times. Catch the digitally remastered Kino Film version if you possibly can – the images are jaw-droppingly vivid and alive.

Here's a short clip from 'Buster Keaton Rides Again', which features footage from ‘The General’:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3xh108cLbo

DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY

February 4, 2010

Whenever I get too jaded and pessimistic about the state of the world, I find hope and solace in marking this unlikely day of redemption, February 4th.

I used to live in New York City (and no, that’s not an oxymoron – but ‘growing up in California’ is.) During that time I played music in a duo called Kick at Heaven (later The Nonchalants), with my wonderful friend Jean Synodinos. Jean is a gifted songwriter, and a keen observer of both world events and human behavior. A few years ago – 1994 – she read an article in the very back pages of The New York Post. The article said that that the day before, February 4th, marked the first time in recorded history that no crime had been reported in the city of New York. Not a single rape, murder or robbery. “The cops had nothing to do but eat donuts”, Jean later said.

A watermark date in Big Apple history, buried underneath an ad for Crazy Eddie on page 36.

Redemption is found in the unlikliest of places.

Jean seized the moment and wrote an amazing and inspiring song, called ‘February 4th’, commemorating this little-known, little-celebrated but remarkable day in New York.

Here’s the opening verse:

“Well you can read the news with a cynical eye,
sometimes I let it pass me by.
It’s a whole lot safer stayin’ deaf and dumb,
a whole lot warmer stayin’ cold and numb.
But I read it on a cold, cold Saturday . .
woke up and said, ‘You heard us pray.’
On February 4th this year,
the city shed a few less hundred tears and children really got to play.
Violent death took a holiday.

I went back, had to read it some more,
the cops said this had never happened before.
No incidents to report, they said -
no woman was raped, no blood was shed.
Like peace just sat in the hearts of all,
and hand in hand we all stood tall . . .
On February 4th this year,
the city shed a few less hundred tears and children really got to play . . .
violent death took a holiday.”

The song goes on, but you’ll have a challenging time finding it or hearing it. To the best of my knowledge, it was never released in a commercial recording. But anyone who’s ever been lucky enough to hear it has never forgotten it, nor the remarkable occasion that served as a catalyst for its creator. (You can find out more about Jean Synodinos and her work at http://www.jeansynodinos.com/.)

Celebrate the anniversary of the day when ‘violent death took a holiday’ with a decidedly strange and little-known cinematic oddity, 1939‘s ‘On Borrowed Time’. Lionel Barrymore stars as a curmudgeonly old grandpa who’s confined to a wheelchair. He manages to outfox Death – called ‘Mr. Scratch’ here – by keeping him at bay up a tree, powerless to do his job. But death delayed has unforeseen repercussions, and complications ensue. Part Rod Serling-esque fantasy, part Louie B. Mayer treacle, ‘On Borrowed Time’ is a genuinely strange film with moments of poetry, maudlin humor, and a lot of empty calories for thought.

Other suitable movies for this day: ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’ (1953), the sci-fi classic about a Messianic alien (Michael Rennie) who journeys to earth to save mankind from itself (now there’s an oxymoron – ‘mankind’.) And, of course, ‘Death Takes A Holiday’.

Here's a clip from 'On Borrowed Time' . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k191m7jrmOQ&feature=related

THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

February 3 . . .

A sad landmark in rock history. If you listened to a pop, rock or oldies radio station today, you know this is the 51st anniversary of the day a plane carrying Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and The Big Bopper went down near Clear Lake, Iowa.

Buddy Holly was the pioneer, everyman rocker who proved you could look like a geek and still rock and get the girl. Richie Valens may have gone on to become one of the first rock ‘n roll cultural crossover artists, combing Hispanic musical traditions with AM radio acceptance. The Big Bopper was . . well, a radio DJ who got lucky on the charts and unlucky in air travel.

Biopics are a notoriously unreliable reflection of an artist’s life, and ‘The Buddy Holly Story’ is no exception. It misses some of the particulars - there were 3 Crickets, not 2 - but these are quibbles; overall, the movie gets the spirit right. Gary Busey had the role of his career as Holly, though he stood a good foot above the real Buddy. Don Stroud and Charles Martin Smith (‘The Untouchables’, ‘Never Cry Wolf’, ‘American Graffiti’) play The Crickets, and one of the great perks of the flick is the fact that they really are playing live in the concert sequences, not lip-synching. Dramatically, ‘The Buddy Holly Story’ is pretty standard, Hollywood white-wash stuff – but its musical sequences have a visceral energy that prove to be the movie’s saving grace.

Make it a double bill with ‘La Bamba’, director Luis Valdez’s take on the story of Richie Valens, the young Mexican-American rocker who shared that final fatal flight with Holly. Lou Diamond Phillips became a star thanks to his portrayal of the ill-fated rocker, but soul of the movie lies in Esai Morales’ moody portrait of Richie’s older brother.

Here's a clip from 'The Buddy Holly Story' where Buddy and the boys find themselves the unlikely headliners at The Apollo Theater in NY, appearing in front of a crowd of locals.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOsxzZMqYx0

GROUNDHOG DAY

February 2 . . .


Ever wonder where such a goofy holiday as Groundhog Day came from? It stems from an old German legend that says if the sun shines on this day (also known as Candlemass Day - impress your friends with that one)six more weeks of winter will follow. I'm afraid I can't shed any light on how the groundhog got involved . .

Celebrate the occasion with - what else? - 'Groundhog Day' (1993). Bill Murray stars in one of his signature screen roles as arrogrant, misanthropic TV weatherman Phil Connors, who is resigned to cover the annual Groundhog Day festivities in Punxatawney, Pennsylvania - "the weather capital of the world" - only to find himself lost in some sort of time warp, having to re-live the same 24 hours over and over . . . and over.

Murray is endearingly smarmy, and Andie McDowell is good as the coworker he's trying to seduce. A consistently witty and inventive comedy from writer/director Harold Ramis, who also worked with Murray on 'Ghostbusters'.

Click here for the trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_yDWQsrajA