A PERSON IN THE DARK

This is my entry in Silent-ology's 4th annual Buster Keaton Blogathon. For more things Keaton, click here and, come on, smile!

Buster Keaton had a dream.....

Buster usually stood by - silently - and watched the world go by. But what if he - Joseph Frank Keaton - were President of the United States? As he tossed and turned, somehow it all became clear...

His party: Forget the big 2. Buster represented the Porkpie Party.

The Porkpie Party Platform: See More Movies! Buster felt certain that movies would cure anything that ailed anyone.

The Porkpie Party Cabinet:

Buster will stick pretty close to the traditional titles, but adds a special one for his Porkpie constituency.

1. Vice President: Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle

Roscoe has always supported Buster in more ways than one.

2. Secretary of State: Mary Pickford

Beloved worldwide, if anyone can make everyone behave, it's Mary.

3. Secretary of the Treasury: Douglas Fairbanks

Buster saw "Robin Hood" and concurs with its fiscal policy.

4. Secretary of Education: Laurel and Hardy

Getting 2-for-1, Stan and Ollie will elevate the higher learning standards of our nation.

5. Secretary of Commerce: Clara Bow

Clara knows what sells and she sure can rake in the big bucks.

6. Secretary of Transportation: Mabel Normand

Mabel knows show to get around in style.

7. Secretary of Energy: Ben Turbin

Ben has lots of real (and manufactured) energy.

8. Secretary of Veterans Affairs: Theda Bara

Buster figures if any vet wants to have an affair, Theda is the woman for the job.

9. Secretary of Housing and Urban Development: Harold Lloyd

Harold has his finger on the pulse of the city.

10. Secretary of Defense: Harry Houdini

Buster knows Harry from way back and figures his talents might just come in handy.

And a new position: Secretary of the Cinema: Charlie Chaplin

Secretary Chaplin will travel the world promoting film as the universal language.

In his slumber, Buster's brow began to furrow. With all of this talent in government, who will make the movies? Suddenly, what started out as a dream ended in a nightmare.

Buster woke in a cold sweat and decided right then and there that if drafted he would not run and if elected he would not serve. He'd rather make movies. Now that's something even Buster could smile about!

Remember, there is more Buster at Silent-ology's Buster Keaton Blogathon!

This post is a re-working of a little fantasy I had quite a few years ago. But, hey, if you can't steal from yourself, who can you steal from?

This is my entry in Cinemaven's Essay's From the Couch Free For All Blogathon. Hurry over to Theresa's site and dive into this awesome smorgasbord of film fan mania!

Turmoil? Bring it on!

Turmoil. It's all around us. It's all inside us. You got your personal turmoil and you got your social turmoil. How to get through the day when the news from the TV is driving you nuts? How to get through the night when your friends make you wish you had new friends?

therapy-schmerapy

Therapy? I've tried it all - your meditation, your yoga, your chamomile tea and your trips to the gym. They're not bad, but I've learned that there is one person who can always set me on the right path. That would be none other than the great Mr. James Cagney himself.

Jimmy has helped me get through so many tough times and I would love to share a few of his ways of wisdom with you.

1. Don't sweat the small stuff.

Really. This is good advice. Of course, differentiating the small stuff from the big stuff can be tricky, but once you determine it's small stuff, just blow it off like Jimmy.

2. Be thoughtful.

Pondering a situation before acting is well worth the time; thinking before you speak even better.

3. Once you've thought it through, act decisively.

Sometimes, you just have to make a point (even if it is metaphorically).

4. Dance like no one is watching.

Good advice always, especially if you can do it with grace.

5. Don't be afraid to lift the veil.

Everything is not always what it seems. Boldly lift the veil and look for truth.

6. Enjoy your pleasures in moderation.

Excess leads to misery. Enough said.

7. Don't be afraid to show your emotions

You'll feel so much better after a good cry.

However, remember that earlier comment about moderation......

Self control can go a long way.....

8. Don't be afraid to show your darling you love him/her.

We all need to know we are loved.

9. Have fun with friends.

Friends sustain us and know us best. And, if you get a chance to have fun with Ann Dvorak, take it!

10. Learn new things.

It keeps your brain in good working order and it's good for the spirit.

11. No one will ever love you like your mother.

True.

12. Laughter is the best medicine.

It really is, isn't it?

So thank you, Mr. Cagney. Somehow, you always manage to get me though my darkest hours. Even when you're one of the bad guys, you're always one of the good guys - full of the joy of living.

Don't forget to get over to Cinemaven's Essays From the Couch for more wonderful, eclectic and wondrous love letters to movies!

There are some things I can get over – movie wise, that is. While the racism of “Birth of a Nation” makes the skin crawl (not to mention a slight heaving of the stomach), it is an important film that should be seen at least once. “Pretty Woman” I can kind of enjoy, even though you know the average prostitute does not resemble Julia Roberts. But every once in a while I see a film that makes my jaw drop so low that thankfully it hits the floor or I’d be halfway to China.

Speaking of China, that brings me to 1930’s “Son of the Gods.” I’ve been making a slow trip through the sound career of Richard Barthelmess. Having viewed “Only Angels Have Wings” and “The Last Flight,” I must say I was pretty impressed. As a young man in the silents, he radiated purity and earnestness, giving unforgettable performances in “Broken Blossoms”,“Way Down East,” and “Tol’able David.”

Success in "Broken Blossoms" made Barthelmess
the go-to guy for an Asian role

His maturity coincided with sound, and he developed a rather world weary, slightly heavy look; handsome, but certainly not boyish any longer. So, when I saw “Son of the Gods” playing on TCM I thought, what do I have to lose? Apparently, my lunch.

Here the story:

Sam Lee is a college student. Okay, stop right there. Barthelmess was 35 and looked it.

College student? He looks more like the professor!

Let’s continue. Sam is obviously wealthy (he plays polo and lends his friends money). He is also Chinese, but passes for white. While his male friends are okay with this, white women, once they find out, are appalled and disgusted. I believe he is called “a dirty yellow Chinaman.”

Sam decides he can’t stand it anymore at college and goes home to his family. His father is a very traditional looking Chinese man who runs a successful business (doing what, I can’t say, but it seems he lends money to people). By the way, his father is played by an American actor, but is convincingly made up to look stereotypically Chinese. Sam says he wants to strike out on his own and see the world. His father would prefer he not, but lovingly assents to his son’s wishes.

Dad (played by American actor E. Alyn Warren)

Now, it’s obvious that Sam does not look Asian and his father does, so you might wonder what went on here. Was Sam’s mother Caucasian? Turns out she is dead, but her portrait reveals her to be very much Asian. What gives? Doesn’t anyone question why Sam looks different than everyone else?

Unsuspecting love

Sam strikes out on his own and eventually lands a job with a novelist who is in need of someone who knows Chinese. While accompanying the author on his travels, Sam meets the glamorous and high living Allana in the South of France (Constance Bennett) and they fall in love. But, once Allana learns that Sam is – gasp! – Chinese, she goes berserk, whips him with a riding crop in public, and says all kinds of awful anti-Chinese things. She feels badly afterwards, but Sam has already left town. His father is dying and Sam has had enough of the white race.

Allana is a demon with that riding crop

Back home Sam goes full on Chinese. Here, Barthelmess looks like a parody of himself in “Broken Blossoms.” I’ll spare you the inanity, but it turn out that Sam was adopted and is – hooray! – actually white. Now, he and Allana can be together and all is white – I mean right – with the world.

Sam's new garb.... something is not quite right....

So, this was not a feather in the Barthelmess acting cap. Seriously, Laurence Olivier could not have done any better with this tripe. Constance Bennett played an awful woman, but she sure looked glamorous. The sequence describing little Sam’s road to adoption was originally filmed in Technicolor – showing an elaborate and presumably colorful parade in San Francisco’s Chinatown – has been lost and now only remains in black and white.

The funny thing is that the film starts out on a hopeful note. Sam’s college friends are angry at the girls who reject Sam because of his race and they give them a good verbal lashing. However, soon things turn, with even the wealthy Chinese being able to look down on the “coolies.” Not cool!

I guess I kept watching because I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but as far as “Son of the Gods” goes, once is more than enough.

Charlie & Edna share a smooch in "Behind the Screen"

Of all the Chaplins I love, I confess to loving Keystone Chaplin (1913-1914) the least. Engaging, revolutionary, amusing – yes. Knowing what is to come, we see all of the ingredients of greatness there… all except one. This nasty, pushy, funny little Tramp has no soulfulness. He is not yet “Chaplinesque.” But soon, the Tramp would grow.

Keystone Charlie - the Tramp sans romance

When Chaplin moved from Keystone to Essanay in late 1914, he needed a new leading lady. As he would do throughout most of his career, he sought an actress with no experience, hoping to mold her into his vision of the perfect object of the Tramp’s attention. What he found was the perfect object for the Tramp’s affection.

Edna

While scouting out his muse, Chaplin met Edna Purviance in San Francisco. Edna, 19 at the time, hailed from Lovelock, Nevada and was working as a stenographer. Legend has it that they were introduced by the owner of a café. Edna was not a professional actress, but Charlie saw something there and, for the next 8 years and over 30 films, from Essanay to Mutual to First National, Edna Purviance became Charlie Chaplin’s exclusive leading lady and provided the missing ingredient that helped change the common comedian to a great artist. With Edna as the object of his affection, the Tramp became pathetic and sympathetic. We knew he had a heart, because it ached beautifully for the beautiful Edna.

More smooching in "The Champion"

Not surprisingly, for a time, Charlie and Edna were real-life lovers, as well as on-screen sweethearts. They were adorably happy for a time, witness this love note from Charlie to his Edna:

My Own Darling Edna,My heart throbbed this morning when I received your sweet letter. It could be nobody else in the world that could have given me so much joy. Your language, your sweet thoughts and the style of your love note only tends to make me crazy over you. I can picture your darling self sitting down and looking up wondering what to say, that pert little mouth and those bewitching eyes so thoughtful. If I only had the power to express my sentiments, I would be afraid you’d get vain…

But, by the time Edna attained the ripe old age of 28, Chaplin had had 1 ex-wife and was on the way to marrying 16 year old and pregnant Lita Grey, and he deemed her too matronly to continue in the role of his romantic muse. But Charlie was loyal and tried to help Edna continue a career independent of him, first as the star of 1923’s “Woman of Paris”, and later in the Josef Von Sternberg directed (but never released) “Woman of the Sea”. Von Sternberg remembered Edna as sweet and obedient, but unbelievably timid in front of the camera. Without Charlie, there would be no more Edna on the screen.

While both held a life-long affection for one another, Charlie went on to quite a few more loves while Edna, after being involved in an unfortunate New Year’s Day shooting scandal and as a peripheral witness in the William Desmond Taylor murder, finally found lasting love in her marriage to a pilot and airline executive.

But Charlie was never far from her mind. In 1956, Edna, now a widow and suffering from the throat cancer that would eventually take her life, wrote this little note to her old boss and ex-flame:

Dear Charlie,Here I am again with a heart full of thanks, and back in the hospital (Cedars of Lebanon) taking cobalt x-ray treatment on my neck. There cannot be a hell hereafter!... Am thankful my innards are O.K., this is purely and simply local, so they say. All of which reminds me of the fellow standing on the corner of Seventh and Broadway tearing up little bits of paper and throwing them to the four winds. A cop comes along and asks him what was the big idea. He answers, “Just keeping the elephants away.” The cop says, “There aren’t any elephants in this district.” The fellow answers: “Well, it works, doesn’t it?” This is my silly for the day, so forgive me.Hope you and the family are well and enjoying everything you have worked for.Love always,Edna

And Charlie, who famously kept Edna on his studio payroll until her death in 1958, wrote in his 1964 autobiography that the time they worked together at Mutual was the happiest of his life. Commenting on her death, he wrote:"And so the world grows young. And youth takes over. And we who have lived a little longer become more estranged as we journey on our way."

Real love can be fleeting, but the heart of the reel love of Charlie and Edna still beats upon the screen.

This is my entry in the Charlie Chaplin Blogathon hosted by Little Bits of Classics and Christina Wehner. Check out their sites for more about the great man.

This is my contribution to the Classic Comfort Movie Blogathon, hosted by Rick at The Classic Film & TV Cafe. Click HERE and find out what movies comfort us when we need a movie hug. it's an awesome lineup!

Having a bad day? Whose day could be worse than CC Baxter’s?

CC Baxter needs his sleep

Shut out of his own apartment while his married insurance company superiors use it for a trysting place, there is no rest at home for him and no love in his life.Worse still, his boss, Mr. Sheldrake (rhymes with snake), dangles a huge promotion in front of him if CC gives Sheldrake exclusive rights to his apartment for his extra-marital affair.

The key to success

It’s a moral dilemma, but the one shining light in his day is Fran Kubelik, the lovely elevator operator and the object of his affection. He scores a date, but she stands him up.

CC and Fran take a shine to one another

Maybe a worse day than CC’s is Fran’s. Trying to break away from her affair with Sheldrake, she is once again drawn into it with a promise that he will soon leave his wife. And where does he take her for this renewed affair? The apartment, of course.

Same Chinese restaurant, same married man

Pretty much an even more horrible day for both is Christmas Eve. CC is stuck at a bar while his boss spends some time with Fran and Fran tries to kill herself after Sheldrake goes home to celebrate the holiday with his wife and kids (after slipping her some cash for a Christmas present).

Merry *!@#**& Christmas, CC

Now, I’ve had bad days, but never once like these two are having. Time to settle in and let all of my empathy for them warm my heart.

sadness, despair, concern, love

Once CC and Fran learn the truth about one another, they spend some time together while Fran recuperates from her attempted suicide. CC cooks spaghetti for her, plays gin rummy with her and generally shows himself to be the better man for her. He is smitten; she is scared and ashamed.

Bonding over pasta

Their time together in the apartment is like a comfy robe.

Philosophy - gin rummy-wise

In a twist, Sheldrake’s wife is tipped off about his infidelities by a former flame. He is now free to pursue Fran. She assents, but soon realizes that this creep is not the man for her. Racing back to Baxter, "The Apartment" warms my heart because fundamentally decent people win. And sometimes, I just need to believe that is true.

All's well that ends well

When I was young, I was so sure of everything. Now that I’m not, I’m not.

What does it all mean?

My opinions were so solid, my convictions so sure. Now, they are, shall we say, open to suggestion.

Films that I was once so definite about now come at me from another angle. Or, maybe I come to them from another angle. Either way, nothing is quite as it was. Older, yes. Wiser – well, I’m allowed to pretend. Film, with its fixed, repetitive nature, remains unchanged. Oddly, I haven’t.

And so, I've come to these films with new eyes and an ever changing landscape of emotions:

Sunset Boulevard:

Ah, Norma Desmond, the gift that keeps on giving (movie-wise, that is).

Then: I once viewed Norma Desmond as a nutty old bat – washed up and stuck in the past. Like Joe Gillis tells her: she’s 50 and there’s nothing wrong with being 50 unless you think you’re 25 – or something like that. Except that I kind of thought there was something wrong with being 50. 50? Yikes!

Now: I see a wounded bird. A woman full of pride and passion, still vibrant and still beautiful with so much to give and no one to give it to. Okay, she is a bit batty, but she just needs to get out more.

Grease:

Then: Oh, how I hated that film. Every “teenager” seemed too old and it was just not as good as the real classic musicals I loved. You know, Astaire and Kelly and Judy.

Now: Oh my, the beauty of all of the youth and youthful fun in that film. Travolta, so talented, such youthful promise.

Rear Window*

Then: Poor James Stewart! Trapped in that apartment and longing for travel and adventure. I'd be itching to get out of there, too. Good thing he had a great nurse. As for Grace Kelly's Lisa, she was pretty, but shallow. Jame Russell seemed a better companion.

Now: What an old crab that James Stewart is! And what a great gal Lisa Carol Freemont is. She puts up with that growling old bear, brings him dinner from the 21 Club and shows him that a real adventurous spirit can wear a dress from Paris and face down a murderer. Good thing Jimmy had a good nurse (some thing don't change).

* Note: there are a few James Stewart films that fall into this category, but I don't want to pick on him. I like him, I really do, but he always seems so darn crabby!

Singin' in the Rain

Then: Gene Kelly was a gorgeous man. Everything he did was right and everyone else was wrong. Lina Lamont was a pill and Debbie Reynolds was unworthy.

Now: Gene Kelly is still gorgeous, but Lina Lamont was the bomb and so misunderstood. She was a shimmering, glowing star in the cinema firmament. As for Debbie, gosh I miss her. And Gene, well, wasn't he just a little mean sometimes?

Wuthering Heights

Then: because I developed a mad crush on Laurence Olivier in this film, Heathcliff was a poor, put-upon orphan - wrecked by Cathy's inability to live like a pauper. And I was not happy with Merle Oberon's Cathy.

Now: Gosh, they were a miserable pair, Healthcliff and Cathy. I confess I am still dazzled by Olivier (and the lovely score), but my sympathies reside with the Lintons. I find it hard to sit through this film. Another of those things that don't change: still not happy with Merle Oberon's Cathy.

I'm shocked, shocked that I like this film

I could go on - I resisted Casablanca for years because of my resistance to Bogey - but now I give into it. Same, too, for On the Waterfront. Brando to me was like a cross to a vampire, but I admire the film and his performance greatly. I snobbishly pooh-poohed Citizen Kane, only to come to the conclusion that, yes, it is awesome.

I suspect the list will change, because, in spite of all efforts, I keep getting older. One can only hope that means deeper, wiser, and more in touch with the mysteries of the universe that are revealed on film.

This is my contribution to the Reel Infatuation Blogathon hosted by Font and Frock and Silver Screenings. Click HERE for more revelations of the heart.

Gaga for this spy

When it came to the Beatles, I was a John girl, never a Paul girl. What can I say - I liked the bad boys.

So, when it came to The Man From U.N.C.L.E., must watch TV on Tuesday (or Monday)nights, I was firmly on Team Solo, never Team Kuryakin.

Team Solo or Team Kuryakin. Both played for team U.N.C.L.E.
(United Network Command for Law Enforcement)

Ah, Napoleon Solo. So suave, so charming, so hot in a tux. While Ilya preferred the 60s style turtleneck, Napoleon went formal. He was a ladies man, a sophisticated rogue. He drove fancy cars and got the job done. Ilya was cool, Russian and a bit too sober for my tastes. The girls loved him (he was known as "the blonde Beatle"), but Mr. Solo got me off looking at pictures of horses and propelled me into my first bona fide crush on an unobtainable star.

Once a week for 105 episodes from 1964 - 1968 season, I grooved to the man. And, as if that was not enough (it wasn't) I made sure I scooped up as many movie/TV star magazines as possible. Robert Vaughn WAS Napoleon Solo. No separation there in my mind.

I wrote fan letters (never mailed). I remained true. And then I saw this:

Okay, so I have a type. What can I say? Napoleon faded, but never really disappeared. I still think he's pretty neat and I'm still on team Solo. Napoleon, not Hans, that is.

Let me get this out of the way - I absolutely love this latest version of "A Star is Born."

There's no denying it - Lady Gaga is a star

Having seen all prior versions, as well as the inspirational "What Price Hollywood?", I consider this one film story that periodically begs a remake/update because none of the earlier films were perfectly realized. Janet Gaynor, Judy Garland and Barbara Streisand were already well established movie stars when they took their turn at this story, so their depictions of the girl-thrust-into-the-spotlight were always a bridge that was a challenge to cross. James Mason's star power was crushed by Judy and Streisand rolled over Kris Kristofferson. Fredric March could go toe to toe with Gaynor, but she had the advantage of being the first Esther Blodgett/Vicki Lester. Yet, Gaynor did not seem like a gal to set the film world on fire. Judy is just a tad too mature and a too much of a raw nerve (it seemed she might be the one taking that last midnight swim), and Streisand, well, she had exploded as an enormous and instant star right out if the gate, one who clearly wouldn't need the help, much less encouragement of Kris Kristofferson to succeed. Barbra is her own cheering section always.

Ally and the 3 Esthers

Now there is Lady Gaga and, truly, while watching this often told story, we are witnessing the birth of a real star. Yes, we know her from her music and her outlandish costumes, but here we see the blossoming of a true movie star. She is everything that a believable Esther Blodgett (called Ally here) should be. Her talent is scary and her self-doubt touching. Her voice and passion for music brought me to tears. In a world of fakers, she is authentic.

So good together

Speaking of passion, the love of music that binds her and Bradley Cooper's Jackson Maine (a cooler name for a rock star than Norman) is the beating heart of the movie. Sam Elliott, as Cooper's older brother, states that music is only 12 notes and it is the artist's message and interpretation that makes it unique. That is the underlying theme of this "Star." Cooper and Lady Gaga make beautiful music separately, but together they are dynamic. Each makes the other better. Each gives the other something they need.

So, I love you lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. it has been a long time since a new film and a star have moved me to tears and, at the same time, created a tremendous excitement just watching them on the screen. I was getting a little worried there for a while, but they made me fall in love again with the movies.

I love my DVR. Next to the Keurig coffee maker and the GPS, it is an invention that changed my life for the better. However, unlike the coffee maker, which gratifies me instantly with hot coffee and the GPS, that provides quick and (usually) correct directions, the DVR requires that I actually watch the movies I record. This year I have vowed to clean out the recordings in my DVR by actually watching them.

First up: Safe in Hell (1931)

First, let me get this off my chest: I have a real issue with pre-codes lately. EVERY MOVIE MADE BEFORE THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE CODE IS NOT A GEM. There, I said it. Feeling better. Moving on.....

Leave the kiddies at home

"Safe in Hell" is one of those pre-codes I've heard so much about, how outrageous it is, how daring, how it pushes the envelope of decency. It is and does all of that. The problem is, it's not that great.

The accidental murder

Director William Wellman's hand is evident - tough, masculine and not especially female friendly. The story begins in New Orleans, where Gilda Karlson (Dorothy Mackaill), a prostitute, murders Piet Van Saal (Ralf Harolde), the man who started her on the primrose path. Her naive sailor boyfriend (Donald Cook) - the dumbest sailor on the seven seas - smuggles Gilda out of New Orleans to escape the murder rap and parks her at a hotel on Tortuga, a tropic island where she cannot be extradited. In fact, that non-extradition status is the reason the island is populated with a pack of leering, mostly gross criminals of varying menace (the only decent man is the black hotel employee played by Clarence Muse).

The object of their affection

Into this cesspool walks poor Gilda, the only white woman on the island (her white vagina being the thing that puts her in danger, apparently). There is a black woman on the island named Leonie, played by the wonderful Nina Mae McKinney, who is the best thing in the film. Aside from some sassy talk and a soulful rendition of "When it's Sleepy Time Down South," she is given little to do except tend to Gilda's needs and try to help her navigate the lecherous waters of Tortuga.

Leonie tells Gilda the facts of life, Tortuga-wise

The person Gilda needs most to avoid is Mr. Bruno, the human tobacco stain who runs the island with a corrupt and iron fist. He has his stink-eye on Gilda and destroys all of Gilda's letters from the sailor boyfriend, leaving Gilda feeling forgotten and doomed to a long stretch in this hell. Anyway, Gilda manages to skillfully avoid ravishment until Van Saal, the man she thought she murdered, turns up very much alive on Tortuga, running from the law and ready to resume relations with Gilda. While fighting off Van Saal's rape attempt, Gilda really does manage to kill him with the gun Bruno gave her for protection. Bruno now has Gilda where he wants her, offering her freedom from a murder trial if he can have her white vagina. Gilda, correctly surmising that death would be preferable, nobly sets her boyfriend free and marches to the gallows.

Mr. Bruno: to be avoided at all costs

So, what set me off? I think it is pretty much the film's desire to be sensational for sensational's sake. While Gilda is tough, she longs to be a "good girl" true to her fella. And nobody here is very sympathetic. Dorothy MacKaill is okay, kind of pretty, but not really compelling. Donald Cook, as the dopey boyfriend, does a good impression of a log, and Morgan Wallace as Mr. Bruno is a drooling puddle of disgust. I did enjoy Victor Varconi (an actor I am always happy to see) as a rather polite political criminal.

2nd time's the charm: Van Saal is finally dead

A bad pre-code is like learning about your grandparent's sex life. It's kind of shocking to know such shenanigans took place long ago, but once you accept the idea, you need a good story to go with the shenanigans. "Safe in Hell" exploits all of the boundaries a film could push in 1931, but, like all things exploited for their scandalous implications, you kind of feel you need a shower after trafficking in it.

Next up on the DVR cleaning project: "Madam Satan"

Next up: Madam Satan (1930)

I can honestly say that I have never liked anything directed by Cecil B. De Mille. This includes the fabled pre-code "Madam Satan." While not the biblical De Mille epic, it has all the hallmarks of CB's style: long stretches of boring nonsense punctuated by spectacle and sin.

On the minus side:

The 2 leads, Kay Johnson and Reginald Denny, are very uninteresting. I loathed the both of them. Kay Johnson, as wife Angela, suffers as a good little wife should while her cheating husband, Bob, who runs around town with his drinking buddy Jimmy (Roland Young), flagrantly disrespects his marriage vows with booze, women and good times. His wife, he states, is a bore. While I don't admire Bob, I have to concur.

When the wife is a bore, the husband has the right to cat around, right?

The story is simply ridiculous. I'll spare you the details, but it is just one of those silly farces where the wife disguises herself and adopts a phony French accent. Bob, like all of the husbands in these situations, fails to recognize his wife under the disguise, has his ardor is rekindled by feminine wiles and, presto, their marriage is saved.

Bedroom farce, marital lies, mistaken identity... yawn

It is long. Maybe if it was just one of those quickie little pre-codes it might have been less objectionable, but it goes on for almost 2 hours.

On the plus side:

Lillian Roth. The costumes aboard the blimp are fabled, but I thought the very best this about this film was Lillian Roth. As Trixie, the Other Woman, she is adorable, she is sassy, she has spark and I wish there was more of her. Check her out:

Roland Young, as the buddy with the blimp, is fun, too - in small doses.

The costume ball get-ups are quite legendary, a real flight of fantasy by designer Adrian. Feast your eyes:

and Trixie, of course:

The real show-stopper was Madam Satan's gown. If only the lady inside the gown was equally alluring.

And then there is that soiree of the blimp. First, we have dancing clocks and then a bizarre musical homage to electricity (which takes the whole thing down with a lightening strike).

Really, I just don't know what to say about this:

Then some debauchery with scantily clad women. Someone recognizes Trixie by her appendectomy scar. Bob pretty much makes an attempt to ravage Madam Satan in a very distasteful way, but, hey, it's De Mille.

Really, Bob... you can't tell that is your wife?

The whole thing ends in a stupid and mildly offensive way (hey lady, your marriage is in trouble because you aren't sexy enough). Really, it's just stupid. And way too long.

Next up: The More the Merrier (1943)

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association's Outlaws Blogathon. Click here for more outrageous cinematic lawbreakers.

Zero + Gene = Love

They're adorable, they're hysterical, they're lovable. They're desperate con men and deliberate thieves. They're Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom and they are "The Producers."

Words don't do this justice

Let me say right out of the gate: I love this film, almost above all others. It is by far my favorite comedy. Where to start?

Max gives his all for his art

In a nutshell, Mel Brooks'"The Producers" tells the story of once-successful-but-now-down-on-his-luck Broadway Producer Max Bialystock and his accountant, Leo Bloom. Max, who has produced a long string of flops of late, keeps his enterprise afloat by romancing elderly (and frisky) women to finance his next play. He's dishonorable, greedy and desperate. Leo Bloom, a timid accountant, finds an error while auditing the books for Max's last play, which presumably made a few dollars. While Max attempts to persuade Leo to ignore the error, Leo has a revelation: the books for a Broadway failure would never be audited. If more than 100% of shares were sold, who would know? And so, a dastardly scheme was hatched and a beautiful friendship was born.

Neurotic, hysterical and a budding criminal

First, the fraud. Arm-locked in the scheme to mount the worst play in the history of Broadway, one sure to lose a bundle, the pair strikes gold with something called "Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp With Adolph and Eva at Berchtesgaden." A love letter to Hitler, it is written by the proud and totally nuts Nazi Franz Liebkind. Words can not do justice to the comical discomfort felt by 2 Jews who entertain the ravings of this lunatic (including wearing a swastika before they peel it off with revulsion as soon as they are out of Liebkind's sight) in order to get the rights to his play.

Courting the author: a producer does what a producer has to do

Now that the play has been found, it is important to find just the right (wrong) cast and crew. Over the top gay director Roger De Bris is chosen and hippy-dippy, improv actor Lorenzo St. Dubois (otherwise known as LSD) appears as their perfect Hitler. There's no way this can succeed, right? The boys gleefully dream of their financially secure future with this over-sold turkey and lease some posh office space with a sexy secretary. All the while, Max continues to do his part by romancing his little old ladies and overselling shares of "Springtime for Hitler." Note here that Max is doing all the heavy lifting.

Hold Me! Touch Me! Max's couch gets a workout

Estelle Winwood is especially frisky and funny as a lady known only as Hold Me! Touch We! (the words she coos to Max when they meet for their tryst).

Getting up close and personal with the Reich

Ah, the best laid plans. After a stunning musical number of the title song, the audience is appalled and success at failure seems assured. But wait, LSD, vamping as a totally cool and kooky Hitler, send the audience into hysterics and they view it as a comedy. Making fun of Hitler! What a concept! And just like that, the play is deemed a hit. Max and Leo are doomed and author Liebkind becomes unhinged as his Fuhrer is mocked. As Max says, "I picked the wrong play, the wrong director, the wrong cast...where did I go right?" Max and Leo turn on one another (Leo, as Leo would, wants to turn himself in), but are united again when author Liebkind tries to kill the pair and them himself, but runs out of bullets. The 3 band together to try and blow up the theater - anything to stop this success and the assault on Liebkind's hero - but are foiled and arrested. They are all sent to prison after being found not just guilty, but incredibly guilty.

Dick Shawn is a groovy Fuhrer

Have no fear. The lure of larceny and the boards can't be quelled behind bars. Our last view of Max and Leo find them mounting a prison show called "Prisoners of Love," and happily over-selling shares of the production to the prison guards. You can't keep a good con man down.

A little "Springtime for Hitler" for your viewing pleasure (it never gets old):

So, that's the story. But the real joy of the film is the loving relationship of Max and Leo. Leo, timid and nervous, finds a father figure in Max, a father figure who builds him up and gives him courage. And Max, that heartless cynic who never let a good scam get by him, finds a surrogate son in Leo. He should simply dismiss the boy, but he can't because he knows Leo needs him and he needs Leo.

Partners in crime. What fun!

The jokes are just too numerous to detail. Let's just say Mel Brooks hits a home run with story, character and jokes. The story is so strong that, years later in 2001 it became a hit Broadway musical starring a brilliant Nathan Lane as Max (forget the film version of this play; stick with the original).

So, yes, Max and Leo were outlaws, but look what they and this film gave us: an unforgettable film debut for Gene Wilder, Dick Shawn at his wildest best, the Busby Berkeley-style overhead dance of in-synch swastikas of "Springtime for Hitler," the crystallization of the mad genius cinematic voice of Mel Brooks and, above all, a performance for the ages by Zero Mostel.

Like all great films, words can't convey the wonder of "The Producers." justice. You have to see it. Hold Me!Touch Me! had it right. Sometimes you just have to say "thank you," even when you know your pockets are being picked.

Okay, we all know Hollywood is king when it comes to classic films, but New York City's not too shabby. As proof, TCM offers a swell tour of the city I love best (but TCM - if you're listening - how about a Paris TCM tour? I'll be the first to sign on!).

This was my second time on the tour, the first being in 2013. But I had that funny sense of deja vu when I stepped on the bus. Turns out we had the same tour guide as we had in 2013. For the record, Jason was fantastic in 2013 and was even more fantastic (if that's possible) in 2018.

Our charming tour guide, Jason

It was a nasty, gloomy NYC day for our tour. Yes, we know we can't compete with Hollywood when it comes to the sunshine. But, once we all met at the Stardust Diner and climbed aboard our comfortable bus, we were treated to some of Manhattan's great contributions to the silver screen.

I can never get enough of film history, but I confess I had Cary Grant on the brain that day. Why should tour day be different than any other day?

While not a stop on the tour we did pass the Winter Garden Theater. Didn't Cary have tickets for a show there in "North by Northwest"?

Just to complete the Cary Grant tour, we passed the Plaza Hotel (the oak Bar was where Cary's Hitchcock nightmare started), Grand Central Station (where Cary made his escape with Eva Marie Saint) and the Empire State Building (where Cary waited to meet Deborah Kerr in "An Affair to Remember"). Yeah, yeah, I know there was movie about a big ape that took place there, too.

Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr at the place nearest to heaven

The Plaza Hotel: things happen there

Cary at the Oak Bar. Hang in there, I'm on my way!

As if he could be lost in a crowd at Grand Central

Okay, enough about Cary (she reluctantly wrote). 2 of my other favorite NYC movie fellas were also featured on this tour: Mel Brook and Woody Allen.

Yes, Cher made a famous stroll to the Metropolitan Opera House in "Moonstruck," but Lincoln Center will always mean Max and Leo to me.

As for Woody Allen, well this (along with a dose of Gershwin) IS Manhattan:

Yes, Zabars is as awesome now

as it was then

Some other stops: The Dakota, home of Rosemary and her baby, and the Ansonia, home of those Sunshine Boys. Speaking of both buildings, I never stop being amazed at the beauty of the architecture of these and many other NYC buildings. They are truly beautiful and breathtaking creations.

the Dakota

Creepy Dakota residents

The beautiful and storied Ansonia (check out its history)

Richard Benjamin and Walter Matthau stroll
past the Ansonia in "The Sunshine Boys"

Once in a while, we do have to mourn what is lost. The charming little shop that was The Shop Around The Corner in "You've Got Mail", once an antique shop, is now a dry cleaners, Oy.

And just to brag, yours truly won the trivia contest on the bus. I was so proud. I'll treasure my tote bag.

So, if you're ever in NYC and you want the TCM treatment as only On Location Tours can do it, take the tour. Interested? Check out tour information here. Maybe you, too, can win a TCM tote bag!

This is my entry in the What a Character Blogathon hosted by the terrific trio Once Upon a Screen, Outspoken and Freckled and Paula's Cinema Club. Click HERE for more unforgettable characters.

I apologize in advance for veering off course a bit, but some stories just need to be told and some records set straight.

Good actors sometimes are so good that they get typecast. While discouraging to the actor, the public, it seems, like to see certain actors in certain types of roles. Think Johnny Weismuller as Tarzan and Cheetah as Cheetah. Word is that Cheetah auditioned for the role of Norma Desmond's chimp in "Sunset Boulevard," but was not chosen because Paramount felt that the audience would expect Tarzan to show up at that midnight funeral.

Cheetah: a victim of type casting

Poor Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale. Cast as the supporting antagonists of stars Rocky and Bullwinkle, the duo never got a chance to spread their acting wings and show their stuff outside of their iconic roles. In fact, many people think Boris and Natasha were actually Pottsylvanian spies and lovers. Neither could be further from the truth.

A little background.

Boris
Boris Badenov was born in Russia, the product of an illicit liaison between an American father and a Russian mother.

Ancestry.com will confirm: Gomez + short Unknown
Russian Woman = Boris Badenov

His father, one Gomez Addams, had a one night stand with an unknown Russian woman after an exceptionally nasty argument with his wife, Morticia, while on a Russian holiday. Gomez, when advised of his son, left him in the hands of an old friend, Mr. Big, a shady Russian character.

Natasha

Natasha Fatale's birthplace was unknown, but we do know she was the product of one Morticia Addams and one Fearless Leader (Morticia said it was the scar that sealed the deal). Apparently that fight with Gomez was a doozie.

It Happened One Night: Morticia + Fearless Leader = Natasha Fatale

Once Morticia popped out Natasha she resumed her life with Gomez, leaving the baby girl with her baby daddy.

Fearless Leader, ever devoted to his boss, Mr. Big, turned Natasha over to the little big man who was pleased to have 2 babies to mold as he pleased. He thought they might make good spies or accountants, but the duo, raised as brother and sister, had stars in their eyes and made their way to Hollywood.

The Big Break

Synergy!

Hollywood is a cold town. Boris and Natasha barely got by, taking small parts here and there while working as domestic help.

Truth be told, these 2 were divas

Boris was particularly crushed when he successfully auditioned for director Preston Sturges only to have his performance stolen from him by Akim Tamiroff in "The Great McGinty." Stolen!!

Natasha, too, encountered disappointment. Every time she tried out for a role, it seemed it went to Ava Gardner.

And then came the call. Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose were looking for a pair of actors to pay some bumbling Pottsylvania spies. Boris and Natasha nailed the audition and were cast. Moose and Squirrel agreed they were so true to life! The creator, Jay Ward, loved them so much that he used their real names and even cast father figures Mr. Big and Fearless Leader as an extra bonus. For anyone that is concerned, appropriate work visas were obtained.

Mr. Big in a big moment

Both Fearless Leader and Mr. Big proved to be one-trick ponies and retreated to their lives back in Russia once Rocky and Bullwinkle retired. Mr. Big later resurfaced by complaining that the HBO series "Sex in the City" had stolen his identity and persona.

Supporting Moose and Squirrel

Boris and Natasha appeared in all but 3 of Rocky and Bullwinkle's story arcs. However, they never received more than a credit of "others" or "friends"when the stars were proclaimed at the beginning of the show. Yet, they were an integral part of the Rocky and Bullwinkle show and became familiar figures to the public by virtue of popular support. Here is a compilation of some of their greatest moments:

Life After Moose and Squirrel
Like all typecast actors, Boris and Natasha yearned for different roles. The luckless Boris lost out to Danny DeVito for a role in the TV series "Taxi,"

and Natasha lost out to Jane Russell as a representative of full-figured women.

Once Rocky and Bullwinkle decided to call it quits, Boris and Natasha knew their time in the spotlight was over.

Eventually, they retired to private lives. Boris, to Santa Barbara, where he married his physical therapist and raised avocados. He lives a quiet life and is known to his neighbors as the gentleman farmer with the funny accent.

Natasha left Hollywood for Manhattan, where she met a billionaire and lives in a big golden tower. Sometimes, when he is asleep, she swears she sees Squirrel on his head.

One last note: please don't try to make too much sense of this!

As part of my continuing resolve to clear out all of the movie's I've recorded but resisted, I took a deep breath and jumped into 1943's "The More the Merrier" starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea and Charles Coburn.

It's a classic, right?....one of those films that is endlessly praised for it's comic charm. So why have I resisted it? In a word (actually 2), Jean Arthur.

Jean is so cute. Why can't I love you?

I don't why I can't warm up to this actress. I hear her voice, I see her face and I am never drawn in. Now, I realize that I am in the very tiny minority of folks who don't love Ms. Arthur, but what can I say? We all have a list of certain performers who are beloved by most but who might not thrill us so much. In "The More The Merrier" Jean Arthur is perfectly charming, perfectly comical and kind of adorable. But I can't shake the feeling that she seems like an actress who should not be a movie star, more like the girlfriend of someone powerful who thinks his talented gal should be a star. Don't get me wrong - she is good, really good. But I just get the vibe that she would much rather be somewhere else. Maybe that's it - I don't feel that she is 100% committed.

Charles Coburn: not exactly the man who came to dinner,
more like the man who hogs the bathroom

As for the film, it is quite wonderful. Joel McCrea, as Arthur's accidental border who upends her perfectly ordered life is his easy, casually All-American sexy self. Charles Coburn, as the bureaucrat in Washington D.C. to study the WWII housing shortage is the delightful engine that propels the unlikely romance between the reluctant landlady and her border. While the film is a fine WWII comical romance, it also is the portrait of 3 nice people who all become friends (and more).

Jean Arthur and her pals carpool to work in this adorable Fiat Topolino

And I will admit that during the travel case scene, Jean was pretty swell.

Jean gets a travel case. Her delight and simultaneous
conflict at accepting such a personal gift is my favorite scene in the film.

Of the films I've seen with Jean Arthur, this is probably the one in which I find her least objectionable. Actually, she was pretty cute if you ignore the annoying crying scenes. Nevertheless, the film won me over, so maybe there is hope for me and Jean. And who wouldn't want an accidental border like Joel McCrea?

This is my entry in the Buster Keaton Blogathon hosted by the amazing Lea Stans at Silent-ology . Please click here for more Buster goodies! And thanks, Lea, for keeping silents alive.

I believe this to by my first encounter with Buster:

Candid Camera was a family favorite and I do recall, as a very (repeat very) young child laughing at this old man’s antics, especially when his toupee fell in his coffee. I seem to remember the host, Alan Funt or Durwood Kirby (Arthur Godfrey in this clip), describing this old fellow as someone who was important back in the day (like all of those old unknown – to me – performers that showed up every week on the Hollywood Palace). I learned that his nickname was “The Great Stone Face,” based on his trademark never smiling expression.

It was a memorable old face, so when I saw him again being silly on the beach with Annette and Frankie (classics Beach Blanket Bingo and How to Stuff a Wild Bikini), I smiled. I was more interested in the kids on the beach, but glad the old fellow showed up for the hijinks.

So when my 7^thgrade teacher handed me the assignment of writing about the man described in this New York Times obituary of February 1, 1966, I was a bit disappointed. That old guy? I was hoping for someone more interesting!

I must say, silent film to me at that time in my life were about as interesting as dried paint peeling off a soiled wall. I was just beginning to get interested in classic film and if you had said James Cagney or Jean Harlow to me, my ears would have perked up. But Keaton? Chaplin? And who the heck was Harold Lloyd? It was around this time I picked up a book in the bargain bin of our local bookstore – ah the fun of wandering around the Cherry Hill Book Store after school – called The Parade’s Gone By. It was filled with chapters about stars I barely heard of, but it was printed on rich, thick glossy paper and it was only a few dollars. I thumbed through it at home, read a few entries and put it aside (I still have it - somewhere....).

Back to the assignment. I read and wrote, probably not something very memorable. However, for some reason, that assignment remained memorable all of my life. I guess there was just something about Buster that was unforgettable.

Fast forward a few years, and Sunday nights with PBS – starting with Upstairs Downstairs and continuing to all things British on Masterpiece Theater (RIP Alistair Cooke) - became a time to be savored. So, somewhere in the 1980s I saw the advertisement for Unknown Chaplin. I know, this is about Buster, but I got to him through Charlie. This amazing 3-part documentary by Kevin Brownlow and David Gill made me hungry to learn more. And hey, wasn’t Brownlow the author of that book I picked up years ago?

What are you doing on my post about Buster?

Anyway, because I was enchanted with Unknown Chaplin, I was all in when PBS next aired Brownlow and Gill’s Buster Keaton: A Hard Act to Follow. That beautiful genius of a young man was the guy who sold Alka Seltzer? Amazing!

A face for the ages

And so I went from old Buster to the young Buster of such great features as Sherlock , Jr., The Navigator, The General, and - my favorite - Our Hospitality, all the way back to those delicious shorts. I must say, the ending of One Week is one of the best laughs I ever ever had.

The truth is, I love all Busters - Buster young and Buster old. The young Buster was brilliant and adorable, but the old Buster was a testament to the survival of genius and the soul of a performer.

My interest in and love of silent film has been like a tangled ball of yarn, so much fun and sometimes frustrating to unravel. There is a bar of gold at the center of discovery, but much of the fun is in the unraveling.

p.s. Many thanks to my 7th grade English teacher whose name I have forgotten.

I caught up with a nifty little pre-code called "Crooner" on TCM the other day. Because I am pretty mad for the pre-code era of Ann Dvorak, I checked it out and have to admit, it was quite fun (if you're not expecting too much).

"Crooner" is just a Warner Brothers quickie (clocking in at 67 minutes), but it has a few sly tricks up its sleeve. The story centers on Ted Taylor, a struggling dance band leader who can't seem to land his group steady employment.

David Manners as a crooner who is modeled after the real crooner, Rudy Vallee

As the good ladies of Gypsy sang, ya gotta have a gimmick, and Ted's band had none. When his vocalist can't perform, Ted attempts to fill in, but his voice is weak. A passing customer (Guy Kibbee, having fun on the dance floor with a lovely young lady) hands him a megaphone and the rest, as they say, is history. Mocking the rise of Rudy Vallee and his type, "Crooner" takes Ted from the depths of obscurity to the heights of fame and back again.

Ted's a sensation with the ladies.
It's only a matter of time before he finds it hard to be faithful

David Manners as Ted is pretty nifty. I admit not being too familiar with his work and he does a neat job of playing the big-headed celebrity who needs a pin prick in his inflated ego to bring him back down to earth. His quick turn from a rather nice fellow to an insufferable bore is amusing. Five minutes with some British society chaps and he's sipping tea with an extended pinky. He also cheats (with the always slinky Claire Dodd) on his way-to-nice girlfriend Judy, played by Ann Dvorak.

Poor Judy. Ted's success means suffering for her

I don't know what it is about this actress that fascinates me. Making the most of a bland role, she has enough star twinkle to hold the screen.

Judy comforts Ted, that lying son of a so and so

Dressed in delicious Orry-Kelly plaids and stripes, she plays the part of the smiling and supportive girlfriend, but there is always an undercurrent of a rogue electric wire simmering beneath the surface. When she finally let's the stuffed shirt Ted have it, she demonstrates what sets her apart - a breathless, female fire that explodes like an emotional slap. Since the film purrs along at breakneck speed, it is only a moment in the film. And sadly, hers was a career made up only of those few fine moments in a string of mediocre films.

Ted thinks he has the chops for opera;
Judy's face says it all. Her ears might be bleeding.

But, "Crooner" is good pre-code fun. Ted's effect on the female population is overwhelming, with only one gal in the nightclub immune to his charms:

On the other side of the fence so to speak, he receives a fan letter form a fellow in jail. Ken Murray, as the promoter who pushes Ted to fame only to lose Ann to him, gets the last word on the whole crooner phenomenon.

Ken Murray as the promoter who propels Ted to fame gets Judy to agree to marry him, but he knows her heart belongs to Ted (that rat).

When Ted's fame is eclipsed by the next hot singer, (someone named Bang Busby, a sly nod to Bing Crosby), he throws a drink at the radio. Darn those crooners!

Ann's face graced the sheet music from the film

When I was a pre-teen and a young teen I so wanted to be Hayley Mills. I wanted her name - Hayley - so different and desirable, her British accent - so much better than a garden variety Lawng Island one, and her hair - so perfectly blonde and sun-kissed.

I tried to acquire every teen magazine that mentioned her and posted photos of her on my wall. She was the pink of perfection.

When she bobbed her hair for "The Truth About Spring", I wanted that same do.

But, moving past the do, check out that attitude. Hayley was confident, Hayley was cheeky, Hayley was bold. She sailed forth into the world and expected nothing less than happiness, love and adventure.

As "Pollyanna" she mended hearts and climbed trees.

As Sharon/Susan in "The Parent Trap" she outsmarted her elders and made sure everything turned out as planned.

In "In Search of the Castaways" she is all in for adventure.

In "The Moon-Spinners" (a personal favorite of favorites), love and adventure are at her command.

In "That Darn Cat" she teams with a feline and yet again foils the bad guys.

In "The Trouble With Angels" she's a rebel who eventually finds "the call" (but somehow, I don't think it sticks).

I loved her then because she is everything I wanted to be. I love her even more now because I realize that she was a true depiction of the adolescent girl, that brave, darling fearless girl who still lives inside the me of now. She's in there, sometimes struggling to get out, but still strong and full of sass.

Have you ever fallen under the spell of a film? Of course you have, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Certain films and characters have a way of mesmerizing us and drawing us into their world. Count me 100% under the spell of one Margo Sperling, the lady with the missing cat in 1977's "The late Show."

An unlikely femme fatale

The 1970s saw a surge in new versions of noir. From some great late entries into the genre ("China Town", "The Long Goodbye") to parodies ("The Black Bird", "The Cheap Detective"), the gritty gumshoes and grimy neighborhoods (usually of Los Angeles) had a brief moment of vogue. "The Late Show" is not a parody. With a tight, taut and quirky script by Robert Benton (who also directed) combined with a Robert Altman "feel" (he produced), it takes us on a journey of new age crashing into nostalgia that somehow feels so right.

"The Late Show"gives us an authentic and compelling performance by Art Carney as Ira Wells, the retired private eye from a bygone era. The time is the present, but Ira's mind and spirit are firmly planted in the past. When we first meet him we spy a tell-all he's working on called "Naked Girls and Machine Guns, Memoirs of a Real Private Investigator by Ira Wells." Ah, the good old days.

Retired P.I.s have a story to tell

Ira, living in a shabby rented room, overweight, hard of hearing and suffering from a bad ulcer and bad knees, is pretty much the definition of over the hill. But, one knock on the door and things change.

A fateful evening's disturbance brings mortally wounded ex-partner Harry Regan to Ira's doorstep. Shot while working on a case, Harry dies in Ira's room before revealing his killer and that old private eye in Ira comes back to life. His mission? Find out who killed Harry Regan.

Howard Duff's role is small, but pivotal

From there we meet an assortment of low lifes and grifters we would expect in a noirish private eye story: there's the fence (Eugene Roche as the guy too nice to be nice), The fence's fussy muscleman (John Considine), the shifty tipster (Bill Macy at his slimy best) and the gorgeous, duplicitous dame who is just a red-herring femme fatale (Joanna Cassidy as a classic damsel in faux distress). And then there is the wild card, the nut with the stolen cat, the real femme fatale. That would be Margo Sperling, played by the superlative Lily Tomlin.

Sleeze x 3 : Eugene Roche, Bill Macy and John Considine

Joanna Cassidy's Laura Birdwell should be the femme fatale,
but she's just a distraction

Ah, Margo. She is a magnificent kook. A failed actress, now talent agent and sometimes pot dealer, Margo reveals that Harry was the first private eye she hired to find her stolen cat. Ira reminds her he does not come cheap, but Margo really wants her kitty back. And so, the seemingly unrelated quests to find Harry's killer and Margo's cat become one.

Margo was NOT a Handmaid

Lily Tomlin's Margo bring the new age to noir. She is certainly not Ira's idea of a sexy dame, but as the two begin to work together they form a partnership that gives the other a purpose and sense of worth. Margo really does like the old guy, worries about him and ultimately admires him. Ira can't quite believe he likes this nut, but it is undeniable that they fit like hand in glove (if only she'd wear a dress). Tomlin's Margo is kind of unforgettable. Yeah, she's out there, but her delight in solving the crime proves she might just be the gal for Ira. All of her career failures lead her to him. Will he take the chance at happiness she so generously offers?

Because it's Lily Tomlin, there are some great Margo-isms (that could be Frankie-isms if you watch her in Grace and Frankie):

My shrink says I'm a very conflicted personality... plus my astrologer

Boy, it's really lucky for you that I just happen to be a very self-destructive person.

Does the Pope s--- in the woods?

While the private eye mystery of the film is superb (Benton's script was Oscar-nominated for Best Original Screenplay) the heart of story is the relationship between two completely different characters. No way should they give one another another look without a raised eyebrow. But somehow these two misfits connect, and although there is no romance for us to see, you know the partnership will blossom into something more. And it should. They are just so good together. And that is why Margo, not Laura Birdwell, is the femme fatale of the story. She offers Ira that elusive something, that Black Bird, that stuff that dreams are made of: purpose and respect and maybe love.

The beginning of a beautiful friendship?

Neat little film noir homages are served up to the knowing viewer. The opening Warner Brothers logo is the logo of the 40s, not the one used in 1977. A 40-ish song called "What Was" is sung by a sultry female and the photo we see in Ira's room is of Martha Vickers, the femme fatale of "The Big Sleep." Ira's desire to avenge his fallen partner echoes back to Sam Spade in "The Maltese Falcon," and speaking of "The Maltese Falcon", Harry Regan is played by Howard Duff, radio's Sam Spade from 1946-1950. And then there is this cute little exchange between Ira and Margo after an exhilarating, harrowing and dangerous car chase leads Margo to think she may have the stuff to be a private eye:

Margo: I feel like the Thin Man.
Ira: Who?
Margo: You know, Phyllis Kirk and Peter Lawford.

Recognize her?

So - look into my eyes (figuratively) - you will see this move and you will love it. Got that? See it. It melds past and present in a way few films can. I promise you will love it.

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association's Femme/Homme Fatales of Film Noir Blogathon. Click here for more fatally fabulous females and fellas.

This is my entry in the Joan Crawford: Queen of the Silver Screen Blogathon, hosted by Pale Writer and Poppity Talks Classic Films. Click HERE for more Joan.

"Joan Crawford is doubtless the best example of the flapper, the girl you see in smart night clubs, gowned to the apex of sophistication, toying iced glasses with a remote, faintly bitter expression, dancing deliciously, laughing a great deal, with wide, hurt eyes. Young things with a talent for living." F. Scott Fitzgerald

1928's "Our Dancing Daughters" is generally accepted to be the film that made Joan Crawford a star. Since 1925 Joan had been toiling away at MGM first appearing as Norma Shearer's double in "Lady of the Night," and quickly working her way into supporting roles with important stars by the end of the same year. As Norma Desmond rightly proclaimed, silent stars had "faces," memorable canvases of expression that provoked emotion in the audience. With her large, expressive eyes and classically contoured face and profile, Joan clearly had a "face." But soon, film stars would need more than a face.

An unforgettable face

"Our Dancing Daughters" is the story of 3 flapper girls friends, all part of the "smart set." They go to parties, laugh a lot and flirt with boys.

Dorothy Sebastian, Anita Page and Joan Crawford

Diana Medford (Joan Crawford) is known as "Dangerous Diana," and is the leader of the pack. She is a good-time girl on the outside, appearing to be free and easy, but her frivolous persona masks a virtuous heart. Female virtue is really important in this film.

Beatrice (Dorothy Sebastian) is the fallen friend who must always, always pay for her transgression.

Ann (Anita Page) is the outwardly sweet and virtuous girl who is anything but. Schooled by a materialistic mother that money and prestige are all that matter, Ann is on the hunt for a wealthy husband.

Naturally, Diana and Ann fall for the same man (Johnny Mack Brown as Ben). Although he really loves Diana, he is fooled by her outward devil-may-care attitude and Ann's sweet and seemingly innocent demeanor. He picks the girl he thinks to be most virtuous. Beatrice, meanwhile, marries Norman (Nils Asther), the man who loves her but can't seem to get past the fact that he was not "the first." By the way, Nils Asther had one of the best sneers in the movies.

Norman loves Bea, but he can't stop giving her a
hard time over a past romance.

Ann and Ben's marriage breaks Diana's heart and she decides to go away for a while. Meanwhile, Ann scorns her husband and is unfaithful. Ben, having enough of her lies, decides to go to Diana's farewell party. There, he and Diana reaffirm their love for one another and are confronted by a drunken Ann, who doesn't want her husband but wants the luxurious life he gives her. After a drunken outburst, she takes a fatal head first tumble down a flight of stairs and paves the way for Diana and Ben to finally get together.

Joan Crawford's star-making role revealed a fresh, youthful and compelling performer. Her face beautifully expresses every deeply felt emotion and, truly, you can't take your eyes off of her. I'm reminded of a quote by Louise Brooks who said Joan danced like a lady wrestler. She does put a lot of muscle in her dancing, but it's her acting and her presence that captivate.

A word about Anita Page

A drunken Ann puts on quite a show

As fabulous as Joan is in "Our Dancing Daughters," the film is almost stolen by the tremendous performance by Anita Page as Ann, the girl with cracked ice in her veins who was sinfully abused by her materialistic mother. Of the 3 leading ladies, her's was the sweetest face that masked the blackest heart and she played her part brilliantly. After a great start to her film career (she also starred in "Broadway Melody"), it slowed to a halt in the 1930s.

By 1928, the film flapper had been firmly established. She was young, fun loving and carefree. After the sadness of World War I, gaiety, even forced gaiety, ruled the day.

Famous Film Flappers: Louise Brooks, Clara Bow,
Coleen Moore and Constance Talmadge

Louise Brooks, with her famous bob and insolent look, was a perfect embodiment of the abandon, desperation and decadence of the 1920s.

Clara Bow, the most famous flapper of all and ever-famous as the "It" Girl was always fun-loving and always strong, but soft, and always had a hint of sadness about her.

Coleen Moore, one of the first film flappers, was also a fledgling flapper. She was tasting the joy of freedom, but only dipped one toe in the pool.

Constance Talmadge was, as Fitzgerald called her, "a flapper de luxe." She was fun and sophisticated and just slightly out of reach.

None of these actresses were able to carry their success of the 1920s into the 1930s.

And then there was Joan.

Joan Crawford was the one film flapper who was able to transition from the carefree woman to the free woman of cares. She successfully crossed the bridge between girlish flappers and full-fledged women of strength and freedom. She was oh-so-like the others, yet oh-so-different.

As we know, Joan got lots of fan mail and she took her fans seriously. Somehow, I suspect much of that mail came from female fans. She was the woman every modern girl wanted to be: strong, self-possessed and independent, but willing to surrender to romantic love. She was smart and competent and yet, somehow always had to pay a price for that. Hmmm.. I have a feeling Joan would still be fighting that same battle today. Oh, and may I add that throughout her storied career spanning many different looks and styles, Miss Joan Crawford was always extremely well groomed and well dressed. She knew the importance of the full package and we, her fans, are grateful for her devotion.

May 16th is National Classic Movie Day! And, as is tradition, Classic Film and TV Cafe is hosting a blogathon. Wander on over HERE to read about everyone's 5 favorite films of the 50s.

Okay, so since my real most favorite films of the 50s (Sunset Boulevard, Singin' in the Rain to name 2) are probably on lots of people's lists and since I've written about them way too much, I decided to go with 5 films that are favorites, but not most favorite. The sub-genre of favorite-but-not-most favorite is a worthy one, too. No?

Love Me or Leave Me (1955)

My love for this film takes on some extra poignancy due to the recent passing of one of my favorite stars, Doris Day. For my money, Doris was one of the most underrated of Hollywood stars. She could so it all in a way that looked natural and effortless - Judy without the neurosis.

Come on, Doris, he's not that bad......

Doris, as singer Ruth Etting, proves her acting ability in more than just sunny fluff. Of course, having a powerhouse performance by James Cagney as her gangster/obsessive lover probably helped elevate her performance. Cagney is amazing and kind of heart-breaking here. His love for Ruth is hopeless, no matter how hard he tries to strong-arm her into it, and Doris, as Ruth, is a gal who uses Marty's influence to get ahead and maybe, just maybe, has a bit of a yen for him (even though it disgusts her). There is real and unexpected chemistry between Day and Cagney. Their relationship is, as they say, complicated, especially when true love Cameron Mitchell comes on the scene. Of course it ends happily for all (even Marty gets an ounce of satisfaction after a stint in the pokey after shooting Mitchell) because it was, after all, the 1950s.

The Court Jester (1955)

What can I say?

Hawkins: I’ve got it! I’ve got it! The pellet with the poison’s in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true! Right?
Griselda: Right, but there’s been a change. They broke the chalice from the palace.
Hawkins: They broke the chalice from the palace?!
Griselda: And replaced it with a flagon.
Hawkins: A flagon?
Griselda: With the figure of a dragon.
Hawkins: Flagon with a dragon.
Griselda: Right.
Hawkins: But did you put the pellet with the poison in the vessel with the pestle?
Griselda: No! The pellet with the poison’s in the flagon with the dragon! The vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true!
Hawkins: The pellet with the poison’s in the flagon with the dragon; the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true.
Griselda: Just remember that.

It's better when you watch it:

It is hilarious, clever and Danny Kaye's talents are on full display. He has always been one of my favorites, but his movie roles did not always do justice to his special brand of zaniness that always had a touch of sweetness to it. A good man in a great role. And with Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone, Angela Lansbury and the sly Mildred Natwick along for ride, what could be more delightful? It's a gem. It will uplift you on a dreary day.

Gigi (1958)

"a rock from some obnoxious little king is love..."
Gigi does not understand the Parisians

For me, this musical is perfection. Beautiful to look at and listen to, this romantic depiction fin de siecle Paris hits all of the right notes for me. Leslie Caron is a perfectly petulant French lass on the brink of womanhood, Louis Jordan is a perfectly petulant playboy, Gaston, on the brink of love and, best of all, Maurice Chevalier and Hermione Gingold are golden as 2 Parisians who have fond memories of youth and love.

Gigi celebrates Paris and love in all of its ages.

People Will Talk (1951)

Dr. Noah Praetorius (Cary Grant): "I consider faith properly injected into a patient as effective in maintaining life as adrenaline, and a belief in miracles has been the difference between living and dying as often as any surgeon's scalpel."

Ah, I do like this film. Billed as a comedy (not suitable for children), it is a rather serious film about a young woman who is pregnant with unmistakable echoes of the 1940s and 1950s anti-communist witch hunts. Our hero, Dr. Noah Praetorius (Cary Grant) is a compassionate and holistic doctor and teacher. His methods of treatment (body, mind and spirit) are viewed with suspicion by the more conventional and small-minded healers in his community who accuse him of quackery. He meets a young lady at one of his lectures (Jeanne Crain) who harbors a secret - she is pregnant and without a husband. He marries her, she thinks out of pity, but it is because he genuinely loves her. He's just such a great guy. Check out his bedside manner:

Meanwhile, the doctor is also a fierce defender of his friend, Mr. Shunderson, a convicted murderer who was, literally, given a second chance at life by Dr. Praetorius. As the black hearted lynch mob tries to add this to all of his other accused crimes, Dr. P refuses to name names to save himself if it means hurting his friend. Grant plays this all with a very light touch, but this is pretty meaningful stuff. The doctor's generous and humane spirit triumphs, just as we always hope all such things conclude.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957)

Jayne out-Monroes Monroe as Rita Marlowe

Jayne Mansfield might have gotten top billing, but Tony Randall as the hapless Rock Hunter (otherwise known as "Lover Doll") steals the show, again proving my contention that Tony Randall makes everything better just by his presence. Take a sneak peek at the trailer:

A funny satire on television and pop culture, Randall and Mansfield, as the Stay-Put lipstick girl, shine and are supported by the always welcome Joan Blondell, Betsy Drake as Rock's true love, and a fun cameo by Groucho Marx.This movie makes me happy in so many ways, but mainly because Tony Randall, for once, gets the girl.

Yay For the Porkpie Party! Silent-ology's 4th Annual Buster Keaton Blogathon

JAMES CAGNEY THERAPY IN TIMES OF TURMOIL

Son of the Gods: Oy! Broken Blossoms This Aint!

Charlie ♥s Edna

National Classic Movie Day: The Apartment is One Big Movie Hug

Then and Now: Films don't change, but we do

Reel Infatuation: Napoleon Solo: I Discover My Type

A Star is Born - FINALLY!

Clearing Out My DVR: Safe in Hell (it was hell!)

Clearing Out My DVR Part 2: Madam Satan (1930); A Dress, A Dirigible and a Dame

CMBA Outlaws Blogathon: The Producers (1967): It's Criminally Joyous

TCM NYC Tour: Hollywood Ain't Got Nuthin' on the Big Apple

Boris and Natasha:Victims of Typecasting

Clearing Out My DVR: Why Can't I Like Jean Arthur?

Meeting Buster Backwards: A Hard Act to Resist

Crooner (1932): Still Crushing on Ann Dvorak

Hayley Mills: Hurrah For the Fearless Adolescent Girl

The Late Show (1977): Lily Tomlin: A Hypnotic Hippie Crashes a Symphony of Nostalgic Noir

Joan Crawford: A Face and a Whole Lot More in "Our Dancing Daughters"

It's National Classic Movie Day!