A PERSON IN THE DARK

Warning: this conversation is personal

Me: It’s Me, Not You

I never thought we’d be having this conversation. Truly, I took for granted this could never end. You were everything to me. In this world of uncertainty, you were always there, a safe place. In a swirl of change, you remained unchanged. You and me – we had something special that no one person could pollute or corrupt.

Sigh, I guess we should go back to the beginning.

It was these ancient images and personalities, so powerful, which transported me to another world. It was a world of escape. So, yes, maybe at a tender age I needed a place that offered escape, comfort, familiarity, and acceptance. All of personal inner struggles melted when I became enveloped in your arms. You offered release of tears, of joy; you made my heart soar and you soothed the sores of a self a little too sensitive, a little too attuned to life’s slings and arrows, of the self’s fragility and self-doubt and the dreaded low self-esteem.

And suddenly, seemingly just like that, but really many decades later, I don’t need you for those things.

Classic Film: I get that you’ve changed, but may I present my argument?

Me: Of course, I owe you that.

Classic Film: While you may not need me for certain things anymore, there is much more that I can offer – things that have always been there, but you have not sought out.

Me: Tell me more.

Classic Film: Since your heart and psyche seems to be in good shape these days, I would suggest you concentrate on your head.

Me: How so?

Classic Film: I know you love a suspenseful story, yet you rarely venture into Film Noir. You should give it a try. And your exposure to foreign film classics is pretty thin, my dear. Why not watch a few? You might like them. And I know you love to observe fashion and costumes. Why not pay more attention to this? Bottom line: try something new with an open heart and open mind and give me a chance. I’ve been so faithful.

Me: Sigh… you’re making me fall in love with you all over again.You know me so well.

Classic Film: Remember… I’m always here when you need me.

This is my entry in the Reel Infatuation Who's your Character Crush Blogathon hosted by the dynamic duo of Silver Screenings and Front and Frock. Click HERE for more cinematic affairs of the heart.

Sweet!

Oh for a man of character! They are few and far between in this world, aren't they? Thankfully we can escape into the world of movies where a man's word is as good as his heart because that's the kind of hairpin he is.

Father & son: Biff aspires to be a dentist and practices all
he learns from a correspondence course on his willing pop.

Biff Grimes of "The Strawberry Blonde" (1941) isn't your typical hero. Played in an incredibly sympathetic manner by James Cagney, he repeatedly plays second banana to his blowhard friend Hugo (Jack Carson) and is always a step behind his ne'er-do-well father (Alan Hale, Sr.). He has 2 critical weaknesses in his tough turn-of-the-century New York neighborhood: his basic decency and his romantic and chivalrous infatuation with the beautiful Virginia Brush (Rita Hayworth), the strawberry blonde of the title.

All the boys at the barber shop long for Virginia

Biff is all bluff and bluster (in that charming Cagney way), but underneath he is honest, trusting, and maybe a bit naive (in the beginning). Outmaneuvered on that first double date, Hugo gets the luscious Virginia and Biff is stuck with suffragette wannabe Amy (Olivia de Havilland). She, too, is all bluff and bluster, leading the shocked Biff to believe that she, a working woman (a nurse), smokes and, with the wink of an eye, might be open to premarital sex. Good girls in the 1890s didn't do or say things like that! As Amy later noted, she was without a date because "free thinkers usually have a lot of time on their hands."

Biff does manage a date with his strawberry blonde, but it is unsuccessful. While Virginia appreciates Biff's respectful ways, the material girl in her is drawn to sharpster Hugo, so much so that she runs off and marries him, leaving the ever hopeful Biff stunned and proposing to Amy as a consolation prize.

Virginia and Hugo: a deserving duo

As fate would have it, the gentle Amy and the trusting Biff were a good team, while the slimy Hugo and gilt-edged Virginia were also a match made in, if not hell, then at least purgatory. At Virginia's urging, Hugo hires Biff as an executive in his company. Virginia seems to enjoy torturing Hugo by keeping Biff around, as Hugo knows he sneaked in when a better man wasn't looking.

Sitting behind a desk really wasn't Biff's style.

Biff is incredibly cute when he urges Amy to buy a new dress they clearly can't afford because he doesn't want Hugo and Virginia to show him up. But, Hugo, being Hugo, sets Biff up to take the fall for some shady practices at his company and Biff goes to jail. Not only is Hugo dishonest, but he's also a coward (those 2 qualities usually go together, don't they?).

Biff kisses Amy goodbye before he is hauled off to jail.

It's upon Biff's release (with his dentistry diploma in hand) and his meeting with the patiently waiting Amy that reveals the truth about both characters: Biff has come to realize the depth of his love for Amy and Amy's patience is finally rewarded with the same love and appreciation she has shown all along.

Okay, so maybe I have a little girl-crush on Amy, too.

No pain killers for you, Hugo! We're doing this the manly way!

Fast forward to the present time. Biff is the neighborhood dentist (a dream fulfilled!) who finally gets an opportunity for revenge when, on a Sunday afternoon, he is the only dentist available to treat old nemesis Hugo's aching teeth. He's tempted to pay the lout back with a bit more gas than needed, but ultimately opts for pulling the tooth without any gas at all. Seeing the wedded misery of Hugo and Virginia only confirms what he has already learned: true love counts more than a pretty face. It took Biff a while, but this man of good character valued and loved the life he made with a woman of equally good character. Not only do they, presumably, live happily ever after, but a little Biff or Amy is on the way.

A note on the film: Rita Hayworth and Jack Carson make a dastardly duo, and some of the usual Warner Brothers suspects (George Tobias, Alan Hale Sr., Una O'Connor) are on hand (as well as a pre-Superman George Reeves ready to give Biff another black eye) to lend support, but it is the amazing chemistry between Cagney and de Havilland that gives this film its zest. There weren't many actresses that could hold their own in a great way against Cagney, but de Havilland matches him wink for wink and heartfelt look for look.

While a film may be 2 hours or more in length, there are those special moments - unforgettable moments - that linger in the heart and mind. These moments can crystallize in a flash all we need to know about a character or their story. They are the poetry of motion or a word or a look that jolts the senses and tells us all we need need to know.

Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine and a broken compact mirror from "The Apartment" (1960):

The set-up: C.C. Baxter (Lemmon), the up and coming executive who loans out his apartment to his cheating married boss, is sweet on Fran Kubelik, the company elevator girl. At an office Christmas party, C.C. shows off his new hat to Fran while Fran hands him her compact to check his look.

The moment: Looking into the cracked mirror, C.C. realizes that the girl he adores is the girl who is sleeping with the boss.

The feeling: I'm heart broken for C.C.'s loss of innocence in his adoration for Miss Kubelik and also for Fran, as she states she likes the broken mirror because it makes her look like she feels.

Brilliance in a moment that tells us all we need to know about these 2 and that we must root for them to the end.

This is my contribution to the "Vive La France Blogathon"hosted by the dynamic duo of Christian at Silver Screen Modes and Patty a.k.a The Lady Eve at The Lady Eve's Reel Life. Click here for more cinematic inspiration from the land of the City of Lights and beyond.

Liliom (1934)

Why "Liliom"? This French film takes place in Budapest and was directed by Fritz Lang, who made a stop in France on his way from Germany to America. So, what makes it so French? Mainly, this guy:

Is that you, Charles Boyer?

Mon dieu! Was there ever an actor more French than Charles Boyer? The French typically do not transplant well to Hollywood. Yes, Chevalier was the charming boulevardier and Louis Jordan was quite dreamy in any language, but French mega-stars like Danielle Darrieux, Michele Morgan and Jean Gabin dabbled but headed back home after a few films. Even great directors like Renoir and Clair found the atmosphere in Hollywood inhospitable. But Boyer - boy was he the American's image of a French man. He was smooth, he was sophisticated, he paid attention to the fit of his clothes, his lower lip pouted in that sexy French way and he was slightly untrustworthy where the ladies were concerned. This was the Boyer I was used to:

Hmmm... I know you're a rogue, but you're so suave.....

But this is not the Boyer of "Liliom." In "Liliom" we get the pre-Hollywood stardom Boyer, and he is rougher, shaggier and more dangerous than the impeccably groomed continental into whom he was transformed.

Smokin'

The story of "Liliom" has had several incarnations, the most famous being the basis for the 1945 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, "Carousel." Based on Molar's play, it depicts the story of Julie, a chamber maid, and Liliom, a carousel barker, who flirts madly with the ladies to drum up business for the owner of the ride, who happens to be in love with him. The owner's control over Liliom makes his love affair with Julie difficult, but ultimately he decides to leave the carousel and strike out on his own with her.

Liliom and Julie: love at first carousel ride

Having no particular skill or desire for honest employment, Liliom becomes filled with resentment towards society (shown in his self-fulfilling prophecy of his treatment by the local police) and towards Julie, whose devotion never waivers no matter how badly he treats her. Upon learning of Julie's pregnancy, Liliom allows himself to be dragged into a scheme of robbery and ultimately kills himself rather than be caught and confined to prison. On his deathbed, he confesses his guilt and accepts that he will have to face God for what he has done. Julie is left to raise their unborn child alone.

We next find Liliom in purgatory, sitting before the magistrate who looks exactly like the police chief he faced on earth. He is given once chance to earn his way to heaven. Bringing something special (a star) to his daughter, he meets her and tells her of the himself, the father she never knew. He tells her the truth of himself, but she refuses to believe he was such a bad man and their confrontation results in Liliom reverting to type and striking her. The magistrate is unhappy with Liliom, who simply states he can only be himself, and it appears that he is headed for a trip to hell, However, back on earth, when his daughter tells Julie of her meeting with the stranger, she asks if it was possible for someone to strike you and have it feel like a kiss. Julie says yes, and because his daughter, like Julie, felt the love through Liliom's anger, he squeaks his way into heaven.

Purgatory is a lot like earth... unfortunately for Liliom

If you know "Carousel, " you can see (and hear) how heavily it rests on this story. Songs are based on dialogue from the film and Billy Bigelow and Julie, although transported from Budapest to Maine, are exactly like the Julie and Liliom of Budapest.

Speaking of the love story of Julie and Liliom (or Billy), it is a hard one to watch. It's difficult not to be mad at Julie. Liliom beats his wife and treats her terribly, yet she stands by him and offers unconditional and gentle love. Of Course, Liliom knows he's a scoundrel - it's his signature move - but the story is not about Liliom's love for Julie. It is about the gift of Julie's love for the unworthy Liliom and how he squandered it. The cop on Heaven's beat gives him that one last chance and, true to character, he almost blows it. Because he is still the same man he was on earth, Liliom does not know how to show love, but, as we knew from Boyer's sensitive portrayal in those rare quiet moments, he does love. And so he is saved. Barely.

Lang's depiction of purgatory has the look of his German expressionist films. It is eerie, mesmerizing, romantic, dark and somewhat magical. His view of justice, both on earth and beyond, validates Liliom's view that, for the non-privileged, it is a rigged system.

This cop is everywhere!

It is interesting to see Boyer in his natural French element, before the transformation. His star power is undeniable. Boyer had a few false starts earlier in Hollywood, never seeming to click, but shortly after this film he made one more trip across the Atlantic and made his mark. Poorly received at the time, "Liliom" was viewed as a French/Hungarian/ German mish-mash. Lang, however, always had a soft spot for the film and, seen today, it is impossible not to make those mental comparisons with "Carousel" or to deny that Charles Boyer was one Frenchman who was going to survive the transplant from his native land to Hollywood. An actor of charm, depth and staying power, he became our ideal of the sophisticated, romantic Frenchman, a true Hollywood creation.

More....

Charles Boyer

With Hedy Lamarr in "Algiers."
Can you blame her for coming wiz him to the Casbah?

More than just a leading man, Boyer shared the screen with such imposing leading ladies as Marlene Dietrich, Ingrid Bergman, Greta Garbo, Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland. From cads to heroes, his range and work remains impressive. I like him more and more each time I see him.

Terrorizing Ingrid Bergman in "Gaslight."

He was married to the same woman, British actress Pat Patterson, for 44 years. 2 days after her death, Boyer committed suicide, a tragic end, yet somehow befitting our ideal of the romantic Frenchman.

Madeleine Ozeray (Julie)

Ms. Ozeray had a sterling and important career both on the French stage and in French film. Judging by her success in her native country, she was wise to stay put.

Fritz Lang

The master of German expressionism made a number of unforgettable classics in Germany ("M,""Metropolis") before making that one stop in France (to evade the Nazis) and then sailing on to Hollywood where he had a few more classics up his sleeve (Scarlet Street,""The Woman in the Window,""Rancho Notorious" - to name a few).

Franz Waxman

A German Jew who, in 1934, received a beating from Nazi sympathizers in Berlin. "Liliom" was his first original film score before relocating to America, where his great work included the scoring for such films as "Sunset Boulevard,""Rebecca,""The Bride of Frankenstein,""The Philadelphia Story," and "A Place in the Sun." Again - so glad he and Lang stopped in France on the way to Hollywood.

This is my contribution to the Classic Movie Blog Association (CMBA) 10 Year Anniversary Blogathon. For more musings on auspicious anniversaries, click HERE.

Anniversaries are important. Our first date, our first kiss, marriages, births, deaths - all landmarks that we mark with a card, a good wish, a present, a fond memory, joy or a prayer. Now, if you're a movie lover like me, I'll bet you remember the first time you fell under the spell of a film or an actor. For me, the film was "The Public Enemy," and the actor was James Cagney. However, there was another important moment; the one where I discovered "The Stars" by Richard Schickel for $3.95 in the bargain bin of the Cherry Hill Book Store and fell in love with those unforgettable faces.

These are the ones that did it:

Jean Harlow. She was kind of awful in "The Public Enemy," but she was positively mesmerizing to me in these photos. That hair! That white satin dress! Those jewels! And so it happened that my first intrigue with classic film stars really began with still portraits. Before cable and DVDs and VCRs you had to wait for classic films to be shown on television (usually in the early morning hours), so it would be many years before I could sample the work of these stars, but the photos were like catnip to me.

A few favorites:

Theda Bara: yikes! I could not stop looking at this one. Who was she? What happened to her?

Barbara Stanwyck: This was Victoria Barkley on TV's "The Big Valley"??

Cary Grant: hmmm... even then I was spellbound.

Clark Gable: Gosh he was handsome. And Carole Lombard was pretty cute, too.

Audrey Hepburn: loved her look, loved everything about her then and now.

Marilyn: Sigh. The book was published the year she died. And though I had yet to see her in a film, she was famous. I couldn't stop looking at this photo. Schickel offered this epitaph, a line from W.H. Auden's memorial poem to Yeats: "You were silly like us, but your gift survived it all."

Elizabeth Taylor: Schickel called her the last star, the last star manufactured and supported by a studio system, one created in its dying hours and gone forever.

The book ended with these 2 iconic images:

Chaplin, at the dawn of his career, awaiting a gift from the sea:

James Mason, playing a fading star in the 1954 version of "A Star is Born," walking into the same ocean to commit suicide.

I am guessing I was about 12 or 13 when I purchased this book, so this is probably more like a 54 year anniversary instead of 57 from the book's publication, but an anniversary that I cherish nonetheless. Plus, $3.95 was a mega bargain even then!

And, you guys know the rest. More books (does anyone remember the Cadillac Publish Company Film Series? I had and still have about 12 of them), more late nights with the Late, Late Show and yada, yada, yada..... here we are, hopelessly devoted.

A special note: This blogathon marks the 10 year anniversary of The Classic Movie Blog Association. Many thanks to the vision of its founder, Rick Armstrong, a true gentleman and author of the excellent blog, The Classic Film and TV Cafe. It has been an honor to rub elbows (blog-wise) with so many fine writers.

This is my contribution to the What a Character! Blogathon hosted by this trio of magnificence, otherwise known as Aurora of Once Upon a Screen, Kellee of Outspoken and Freckled and Paula of Paula's Cinema Club. Check out all three for all character updates.

Estelle Winwood

Hold Me! Touch Me!

Okay, I confess. It was this quote from Louise Brooks that made me want to look into Miss Winwood:

" When I was dancing with Dario at the Persian Room in the Plaza, after the midnight show I would walk down to the Gotham Hotel to visit Tallulah Bankhead. She would declaim Phaedre in lousy French and read the Bible in her lovely Alabama accent while everybody said she stunk and tried to do it better; and in a hooded corner sat Estelle Winwood nursing her latest dose of the clap from one of her little boys."

Say what? So, I did a little digging and found out a few things about Estelle. First to her career.

Estelle appeared on stage with Bela Lugosi. There were rumors of an affair;
he allegedly broke her ribs with an overly passionate embrace.
Estelle seemed to have that effect on men.

Estelle was primarily a stage actress and prided herself on being such. This proper British young actress, born in 1883, made her debut at age 20 and eventually made her way to the London stage. She moved to the USA in 1916 and had much success on Broadway. She continued to act in first class productions on both the Broadway and London stages, but the 1930s called for desperate measures, and nothing was more distasteful for this desperate actress during the depression than acting in the movies. But, desperate times do call for desperate measures, so Estelle, at age 50, dipped her dainty toes into movies. While her first film appearance was in 1931's "Night Angel," her scene was cut, so her official film debut was made in 1933 in the "House of Trent," with her first notable role having to wait for 1937's "Quality Street." She is the lady with the scandalous wink:

Estelle stayed away from film during the 1940s, but later found working on television not so awful. She can be found in an Alfred Hitchcock Presents, a Robert Montgomery Presents, an episode of The Donna Reed Show and even an episode of The Real McCoys.

But, Estelle was lured back to film again in the 1950s, appearing in supporting roles in "23 Paces to Bakers Street,""The Glass Slipper,""Darby O'Gill and the Little People,""The Misfits," and "Camelot."

Estelle with Marilyn Monroe and Clark Gable in "The Misfits"

Of course, who could forget her as Hold Me! Touch Me! in Mel Brooks'"The Producers"?

Estelle, predictably, hated the role and the film and said she only did it for the money.

Estelle also did a memorable stint as Aunt Enchantra on "Bewitched."

But, as memorable a personality as she was on screen, Estelle was an unforgettable character in real life.

Estelle was married 4 times, her first husband being the renowned theater director and producer, Guthrie McClintic. Her second husband was actor Arthur Chesney, her third a New Zealand rancher and her fourth an actor by the name of Robert Henderson who was 21 years her junior, and of whom she said "I can't remember if I divorced him or not." Estelle was most famous for her great friendship with Tallulah Bankhead. While a bit more lady-like (at least on the outside), she and Tallulah were great party girls and all around carousers. She described her first meeting with Tallulah when they met at a party in New York in the 1920s. The host introduced Estelle to Miss Bankhead, who happened to live in the same building:

“Tallulah was so gloriously lovely that I hated her on sight. Later, to my horror, everyone had left the party and the host, who had been flirting with me all evening, had an affair with me. I began to panic and remembered that Tallulah lived in the same building. She let me in and when I explained what had happened she immediately ushered me to the bathroom and loaned me her douche kit and this was the beginning of our enduring friendship.”

She was smart, she smoked, she drank, she loved men and she looked down her veddy English nose at just about everyone. She lived to be 101 and remained feisty, irreverent and utterly charming in her crusty, dismissive and oh-so-British way.

And while we generally know Estelle as a woman of a certain age, she sure was a cutie back in the day, wasn't she?

Please check out more memorable characters!

This is my contribution to the Wedding Bells Blogathon hosted by the always elegant Annette at Hometowns to Hollywood. Click here to immerse yourself in more cinematic wedded bliss.

Who is Sylvia?

The elegant Sylvia

I love a good Hollywood true true-love story. Lucy & Desi, Larry & Viv, Liz and Dick.... wait a minute..... Seems like somebody else always has to muscle their way into perfect harmony, doesn't it?

2 Kings of Hollywood

Two of my favorite Hollywood stars are Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. and Clark Gable. Aside from their unforgettable screen performances, there was something so dashing, so masculine about both men, along with the big plus of each having a breathtaking singular love story.

One of the biggest love stories of early Hollywood was the one between America's Sweetheart, Mary Pickford and that swashbuckler deluxe, Douglas Fairbanks. Both ditched inconvenient spouses and braved public scorn to be together. The lord and lady of Pickfair were so beloved by their public that their split in 1936 after 16 years of (alleged) wedded bliss was shocking.

True love

Even more shocking was the appearance of this lady on Doug's arm.

Doug and his new lady with dear friends Norma Shearer and Irving Thalberg

Who was she? Who was this nobody, this Yoko, who stole the virtuous, sweet Mary from her one true love? She was none other than the notoriously delicious and fun-loving Lady Sylvia Ashley (Silky to her friends, thank you).

A little background on Silky (if I may call her that). Born Edith Louisa Sylvia Hawkes to a decidedly middle class British family, Sylvia worked her way up from lingerie model, dancer to show girl/stage actress of middling success during the 1920s. But Sylvia's eye was not on a great theatrical career. A wise gal who played to her strengths, she devoted her considerable talents to marrying well. In 1927 she bagged an English aristocrat, Lord Ashley, and put her stage acting days behind her.

The marriage only lasted until 1934, but she was forever after known as Lady Sylvia Ashley, no matter who the current spouse. The main reason the marriage went south was because Sylvia had fallen for Douglas Fairbanks and he, a sucker for British nobility* no matter how tarnished, was smitten. Smitten enough, in fact, to ditch the calm and quietly aging Mary for this delightful, young social butterfly of cafe society. Doug relentlessly pursued youth while his own slipped away and Sylvia pursued the glamorous and more relaxed world of Hollywood society. It was much more her style. When they wed in 1936, she was 32 and he was 53.

Awkward! Ex-wife Mary Pickford and current wife Sylvia accidentally book a flight on the same plane. Good thing BFF Norma Shearer was there to referee.

I love this photo. Sylvia is shown in all of her charm and beauty, while Doug looks simply too old and too tired to keep up with her.

By all accounts, Sylvia was a hot number and the aging swashbuckler had a hard time keeping up with his cosmopolitan bride. Ever impressed with British titles and high society, Doug did his best, in tux, to squire his lady through endless late nights of partying, but, clearly, she exhausted him. Ex-wife Mary, who knew him best, predicted "that woman will kill him."

In the end, after 3 years of marriage, at age 56, Doug's heart gave out. Sylvia was genuinely grieved over Doug's demise and always spoke of him with great affection and respect. It was Sylvia who oversaw the creation of her husband's final resting place, one appropriate for a king of Hollywood.

Doug's final resting place in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery

In 1944, Sylvia took another quick trip to the altar with Edward Stanley, 6th Baron Stanley of Aderley, but Hollywood society was more appealing to her than the stuffy drawing rooms of the British aristocracy and by 1948 the couple had divorced.

Gable and Lombard enjoying each other's company

The adorable love affair of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard charmed the public and her tragic death in a plane crash in 1942 saddened the world and broke his heart. This was one Hollywood love affair that did not end in divorce.

This King of Hollywood had to go on and live his life, and somehow, the man's man who loved the down to earth Lombard ended up with Silky. And it didn't end well.

No words are needed

Both Sylvia and Gable called the union a mistake. Maybe she was looking for another Doug. Maybe he was looking for another Lombard. After all, Sylvia did like horses and claimed to like to fish, kind of like Lombard. Their married life, at least in public, seemed to be a series of posed photos of wedded fun and bliss. The reality was much different. The spontaneous joy of his life with Lombard was nowhere to be seen.

It only looked like fun

It wasn't long after the wedding day that Gable developed an active dislike for his extravagant and very social wife. Sylvia simply referred to the marriage as a mistake. The odd couple marriage lasted a whole 3 years before they divorced in 1952.

Sylvia took one more walk down the aisle in 1954 to Russian Prince Dimitri Jorjadze. Since the Russian royal family had long been ousted, the Prince made his living by dabbling in the hotel business and racing cars. While she was never officially crowned a Queen as a result of her marriages to her 2 Kings, she did manage, in the end, to receive the title of Princess. She remained married to him until her death in 1977. While this marriage endured, it seems they spent most of their time apart. At last Sylvia discovered the secret (for her) to a successful and lasting union.

Great friends with many Hollywood regulars (including the ever-present Norma Shearer and the equally elegant Constance Bennett), Sylvia was never a second choice or replacement, which may be a reason her marriages to those 2 Hollywood leading men didn't last. She wasn't Pickford and she wasn't Lombard. She was simply herself - lively, extravagant and fun loving. She was more than just a showgirl with ambition or a heat-seeking bride in search of a lonely groom. Along with Constance Bennett and other Hollywood heavy hitters, she was very active in helping provide food, clothing and medical aid for refugees as a result of WWII.

Maybe I'm being a bit of a romantic, but it seems that her marriage to Doug was, for her, a happy one. Sylvia, Princess Jorjadze, rests in the same Hollywood Forever Cemetery, her grave in direct sight-line to Doug's. I think she just wanted to be nearby.

Head on over to Hometowns to Hollywood for more matrimonial mischief!

* The allure of Britain and its nobility seemed to run in the Fairbanks DNA. Son Doug Jr. was an avowed Anglophile who developed a British accent and spent a great deal of his adult life across the pond (before finally resting with his dad in Hollywood). Jr. was firmly on Team Mary and memorable dubbed his new step-mother "Lady Ashcan."

39 Years ago I had the worst movie-going experience of my life. I convinced a date to take me to see "My Dinner With Andre." And, no, the date was not the cause of the bad experience (although I will never forget the "I pick the next movie" look on his face at the end of the film). The cause of this memorably bad experience was twofold; one: an hour and a half of pretentious on-screen drivel and, 2) the rave reviews by critics that made me think I had to like this.

And so, for 39 years, "My Dinner With Andre" has become the standard for my most hated movie of all time. Nothing, not even "Titanic," could compare. It has been the running joke in my life. If I compared anything to this movie, it pretty much stunk. My opinion was shared by some, so I felt completely validated in my negative view and there it has sat, for 39 years, my total disdain carved in stone.

So why, after all this time, have I chosen to revisit these 2 knuckleheads and their conversation over quail? Honestly, I don't know! Maybe I thought I would feel exactly the same, but, I ask you, how many things do you feel exactly the same about after 39 years?

Anyway, I dove in with an open mind and I humbly admit, I have changed my opinion... somewhat.

At first, I found myself again squirming in my seat over Wallace Shawn's Woody Allen-style New York monologue before meeting director Andre Gregory. Sorry, but whenever I see Mr. Shawn, I always think of Woody Allen's description of him in "Manhattan" - a homunculus (sorry, Wally). His complaint that he was now struggling in the theater and that he was raised in wealth still left me cold. And don't get me started about the two of them ordering quail and talking about esoteric BS while the poor old waiter had to stand by and serve them and probably listen to this drivel about seeing fauns in a Polish wood and being buried alive in the Hamptons on All Hallows Eve, not to mention creatures with poppies growing out of its toenails.

But, at about 55 minutes in I started to lean in. Suddenly Andre, who had seemed too privileged and elitist, started making sense (no, I had not broken open the Cabernet). In 1981 he was talking about a society that was making us immune to feeling, to originality, to resistance. His intense quest to feel, to be authentic, was extreme (and nuts), but when he states that, as a society, we are bored, and because we are bored we are asleep and if we are asleep, we can not say "no," well, that made me think. And then I thought about all of those deep, and seemingly important conversations I had in college, before "real life" took front and center stage, when feeling and thinking deeply was not silly, and I felt that little tug that said I had lost something.

So, Wally and Andre, while I am still not sure I would want to spend an entire evening with you (although Andre generously picked up the check), I might consider a fast cup of coffee. Watching a movie that makes you think is pretty darn special.

This is my entry in the National Classic Movie Day 6 From the 60's Blogathonhosted by the great and powerful Rick at The Classic Film and TV Cafe. Please click here for more great films and memories from a great decade for film and a great decade to be young.

Amazingly (to me, at least), I have reached the age where I can write about classic films from the first hand experience of actually having seen them in the theater when they were released. My earliest memories of movies in a theater came from the decade of the 1960's. Seeing films with either my Mom or friends or - most memorably - alone was like watering a hungry little seed that blossomed into a life long love. Accordingly, I have chosen to write about films from that decade that had an impact on me as a young person in the dark. Not all are classics, but they all hold a special place in my heart. Clearly, first loves leave a lasting imprint there.

Here we go, paisley mini skirt, go-go boots, poor boy sweater and all!

The Parent Trap (1961)

One Hayley is wonderful; 2 Hayleys is heaven

This is the film that made me love Hayley Mills. Forget the fact that a Boston sister and a western sister both spoke with British accents, I was mad for all things Hayley after that. There was not a movie magazine that printed a mention of her that I did not covet or collect (want to see the "Summer Magic" paper dolls I still have?). My favorite scene: the summer camp dress sabotage. Oh, and Maureen O'Hara, to me, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She reminded me of my Mom, who took me to see this.

And my love for Hayley endures. Last year I saw her in a play in New York...front row seats...she was beautiful...I swooned.

The Thrill of it All (1963)

Doris as Beverly Boyer: The Happy Soap Girl

My Mom took me to see this one, too. I remember laughing a lot, but especially at the scene where James Garner drives his car into a soap filled swimming pool (hey, I was 10). Since that day, Doris Day has always seemed like a warm hug for me. Plus, I thought she was Beautiful, loved her hair and clothes and just the naturalness of her. I saw this film recently on TV and it still charmed me. Her chemistry with Jame Garner was equal to the sparks she shared with Rock Hudson. They were great together. This film was a narrow choice over their other film, "Move Over, Darling." What sent this over the top was Zasu Pitts as the family maid who I recognized from morning reruns of "The Gale Storm Show."

A Shot in the Dark (1964)

I'm pretty sure my older brother took me to see this one, probably because he wanted to see it and he was stuck with me for the afternoon. I'm so glad he did, because this was my introduction to Inspector Clouseau and the wonderful Peter Sellers, who became a favorite of mine. And you know, girls always notice other girls, and to me Elke Sommer was gorgeous. The scene at the nudist camp had the entire theater in hysterics (a wonderful memory; will we ever experience it again?), but the billiard scene was my favorite... even more now because at the time, I had no idea how divine George Sanders was.

Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964)

A most memorable day at the movies for me, the first movie I saw alone. I was feeling a little self-conscious, thinking that I might be the only solitary person there. However, when I paid for my ticket and entered the lobby, I noticed quite a commotion. People were filling out cards with questions, but I was so focused on getting a seat and looking like I did this ALL the time, I ignored all the hub-bub.

First: the film. Gripping stuff, right? And for an 11 or 12 year old, pretty darn scary. Truthfully, it took me decades to be able to look at - much less appreciate - Joseph Cotten. I did scream and jump out of my seat when he (allegedly) crawled up those stair from a muddy grave.

Next: It turns out all of those cards and questions were for the appearance after the film of the 2 stars: Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland. Yes, that was in the day when stars actually did these those things. Truly, after that film, all I wanted to do was leave, but I recall being forced to sit in my seat. I remember nothing of what the 2 greats had to say. My only memory is that Olivia looked beautiful and glamorous in a sky blue dress and that Bette was quite dowdy looking, but her answers to the questions elicited laughs and applause. Oh how I wish that I had been able to appreciate them at that time. All I could think of was Joseph Cotten.

Lastly: That was the day I learned that going to the movies alone was okay - maybe even preferable. And I wish I had been able to appreciate Mary Astor, who made a brief, kind of sad, appearance in the film.

A Hard Day's Night (1964)

Simply a dream come true for this Beatles fan. Since my bedroom wall was covered with pictures of the Fab Four (I was a John girl, thank you), the day this film came to town was the day my friends and I just had to see it. Loved the music and loved those guys.

This is one film that got even better for me as time went by. Not only is it fast, fun, inventive, great looking and a wonderful showcase for John, Paul, George and Ringo, it makes my eyes mist over with the happy memory of a youthful passion.

Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Oh that "R" rating caused quite a controversy, didn't it? Everyone, and I mean everyone, had read the book and eagerly anticipated the movie. But, that damned "R" rating meant I needed an adult to get in with. So yet another thanks to Mom for taking me, probably against her better judgement, to see this devilishly great film which is so true to the book.

Mia and New York in 1968 were enchanting, but it was Ruth Gordon who stole the show for me. As Minnie Castevet she was equal parts charming and frightening. Oh Rosemary, don't drink that concoction she brings over for you every morning! And wouldn't L'Air du Temps be better than tannis root? Of course, the big reveal was "the baby" and just the memory of those beady red eyes sends shivers down my spine.

* Extra second feature: The Art of Love (1965)

* this is for the memory of the time when we got 2 for the price of 1.

"The Art of Love" would not make anyone's list of classics and I think you might be hard pressed to find someone who actually saw it, but it's a silly film that I remember loving so much. And what's not to love? It had Elke Sommer (the girl who caught my eye in "A Shot in the Dark"), James Garner (who was so wonderful with Doris Day in "The Thrill of it All"), Dick Van Dyke (the star of one of my favorite TV shows) and Ethel Merman, who memorably had green hair in this. It was just great 1960's innocent fun. However, in doing a look back here, this little forgotten film had more great pedigree: a Ross Hunter production, written by Carl Reiner and directed by Norman Jewison. And the opening credits (remember them?) were pretty darn great, too.

What I love about all of these films is that I still love them - each and every one. While not all are classics, they are all solid fun in their own way and made even more precious because of the happy, enduring memories.

Thanks again, Rick, for hosting another great National Classic Movie Day Blogathon!

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association Classics For Comfort Spring Blogathon. Click here for more no-calorie comfort film food.

Movies have always served as a comfort for me, even in the best of times. The current pandemic and resulting sense of isolation makes one want to pull those familiar films around us like a warm and cozy blanket. But, I confess, after 2 months, I'm beginning to need a little more. So, sorry "Singin' in the Rain", you'll just have to sit in your DVD case; and Norma Desmond? We shall rendezvous again - soon, my darling - I'm sure (we always do). But for now, I feel like dipping my toe in more challenging waters, so I offer the 5 films that took me out of my comfort zone (largely with positive results).

On The Waterfront

If I have an aversion to a particular star, I tend to avoid them, even if the movie is considered a classic. So it was with "On the Waterfront," because Marlon Brando and I are not exactly simpatico. Not only did I avoid this film, but I ran from it. It was a rather gaping hole in my film experience, I admit, and finally one Facebook friend (who has since passed) convinced me to give it a try.

What can I say? I was 100% wrong. It is powerful, unforgettable, beautifully and achingly acted. I loved it and I love Renee for guiding me there. Still not loving Marlon, but I'm all in for him in this one.

Key Largo

Another star who I can't warm to is Bogart. I don't know why, because he is clearly an excellent actor and a magnetic personality. When he was at the phase in his career when he was battling James Cagney, I always rooted for Jimmy. Maybe it's the snarl..... Anyway, my love for Edward G. Robinson made me hold my nose and jump in and boy, am I glad I did.

And just so you know, I have since managed to sit through "The Big Sleep" (what the hell is going on? I don't care), "The Maltese Falcon" all the way through (loved it) and "Casablanca" with new appreciation. He still gives me pause and always makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but maybe that's the essence of Bogey.

The Searchers

Never a western gal, for sure, but I figured I'd give it a sincere try with a great one. And yes, it is great. I'm still not 100% in for the genre (too many horses falling in battle), and I have real issues with John Ford sometimes, but I left the film with a great admiration for Ford's love of the American landscape, respect for his characters and an even greater respect for John Wayne as a genuine larger-than-life-size movie star.

Count me a fan of Duke.

Breathless

My knowledge of foreign films is pretty slim, so I chose to move out of my Hollywood-based comfort zone with "Breathless." I loved every single minute of it and have since managed to branch out with French and Spanish films.

Merci Jean Luc Goddard and Francois Truffaut (whose films I was tempted to enjoy). Super cool after all these years.

Lawrence of Arabia

I'm not a big fan of the historical spectacle. I'm more of an intimate character film type of gal. Maybe I really resisted this one because I saw this in the movies on a re-release with a date who was so obviously gay and we didn't have such a great time, the kiss was awkward.....well, that's another story for another time...maybe.

Anyway, my love for Mr. O'Toole lead me back to this and "Lawrence of Arabia" now counts as one of my favorite films. It is beautiful - overwhelmingly so. And the music remains just about my favorite film score. It requires a commitment of time, but it holds me always under its spell.

What can I say? I love my comfort films during all times, but right now I'm feeling like some kick-ass films to jolt me off the couch and away from the kitchen. My inner Lucy is yelling at me.

Pity their untortured souls, for no magic comes from the satisfied.

From the get-go, I was the perfect food for the Hollywood hunger machine. And from my first reading of that slim miracle, I knew the meaning of that green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. I didn’t need an explanation because I felt it in my bones, the same way I instinctively felt the meaning of a Hurrell portrait of Jean Harlow or Doris Day’s twinkle.

Simply put: like so many adolescents, I did not want to be me. The wonderful thing about that green light is that we can all attach our private meaning to it, but it all boils down to the same thing: The hope and the lie of the American Dream. If you will it, it will come. If you work hard and commit yourself and believe, it will come. You are not bound by social class, ethnicity, name or the sins of the past. What a perfect message for 1925, the year of Gatsby’s publication. Everything seemed possible.

At the same time there was Hollywood, standing astride the world’s film industry that saw European markets devastated by World War I like a king. And what royalty they created! They had been working at it for years, but during the 1920s, they perfected the machine that produced glamour and dreams and fed off the dreams and desires it created in the hearts of the world.

Gloria Swanson, once a ribbon clerk, was now a real-life marhioness, or whatever you call someone married to a marquis. Did she ever scrape Chicago off of her shoes? Did Clara Bow ever escape the Brooklyn girl who was uneducated and raped by her father just because she lived in a dream world and was adored by millions?

And, if your name didn’t fit the dream, you could change it, just as you could change your appearance or your back story. Name changing in the entertainment world wasn’t new. Mary Pickford ditched Gladys Smith before she ever stepped in front of a camera. In the early days of film, Theodosia Goodman of Cincinnati became Theda Bara, the daughter of an Arab Sheik and a French woman, raised in the shadow of the Pyramids. That kind of malarkey was purely for fun and probably no one really bought it, but it made for a good vamping story that bought folks to the theater. However, somewhere in the 1920s, it all got very serious. After all, millions were at stake and more and more people started really believing make believe. Did Greta Garbo ever miss Greta Gustafsson? Was Mary Astor able to shed Lucile Vasconcellos Langhanke? Did Rodolfo Pietro Filberto Raffaello Guglielmi di Valentina d’Antonguella ever really feel like Rudolph Valentino?

It’s a beautiful dream, but it is a dream, a fantasy. And when you come to realize that, it is the ultimate heartbreak. That is why there is always a tender spot in my heart for Gatsby, for Clara and, later, for poor Norma Jean Baker. They believed and their hearts were pierced. As was mine, when I realized I could not become anyone other than myself. Yet the allure persists. It is powerful, this desire to alter the reality.

Daisy and Nick and Tom, those philistines, never had to long. They could graze in another pasture, sample the “other,” but they were secure in their beings. They did not long to be anyone other than themselves. Pity their untortured souls, for no magic comes from the satisfied.

The eternal truth of Gatsby smashes the lie of the American Dream, so well perpetuated by Hollywood – or what passes for a universal “Hollywood” these days. Jay Gatz could give himself a new name and fancy clothes and new wealth, but the truth was cloaked in the lie. Believing the lie is the mistake that leads to the heartbreak. Somehow, the truth always wins.

As a little girl I spent endless hours pouring through movie magazine and classic Hollywood photo books. My dreams were built on those images. Oh what magical lives Hayley Mills and Sally Field and Audrey Hepburn must have had! I’m a big girl now and I have learned that who you are, at your core, is the only truth and your true identity. It’s fun to take flights of fancy and indulge in a little make believe, but the trick is to never believe it is real. Cary Grant famously said “Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant. I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be until finally I became that person.” Based on what we know, even the great Cary Grant spent endless hours trying to figure out the intersection where Archie Leach met Cary Grant.

And still, like so many, who continue to watch and watch and maybe hope and hope, I am spellbound by the magic of film, especially Hollywood films of old.

The green light at the end of the dock is no different than the thrill of the simultaneous darkening of the theater and the light of the projector and the hope, the excitement that we can enter a new world, if only for a short while. Unlike Gatsby, we don’t have to really believe it, unlike Marilyn we don’t have to run head first to the green light. A person could get burned if they linger there too long.

Hey movie lover - haven't you often heard behind the scenes conversations in your head? You know, the ones between Clark Gable and Carole Lombard? Or Garbo and Gilbert? Or maybe, just maybe, Irving Thalberg and Norma Shearer? Or better yet, all those mop up men at the Harlow home discussing how to handle Paul Bern's death while he lay there cold as a cucumber? Well, imagine no more, because author Martin Turnbull takes you to all of those rooms where it all really happened (the rooms we really care about) in "The Heart of the Lion," his new novel about the MGM Boy Wonder, Irving Thalberg.

Anyone who is anyone makes an appearance in Turnbull's fictional telling of Thalberg's final years. Lillian Gish nurses a sidecar* at a Hollywood party, Douglas Fairbanks Sr. complains about Mary Pickford, foreshadowing the end of a fairy tale union, and Garbo is a sly minx who never has her head in the clouds. But the central stars of this tale are Louis B. Mayer, the crude but knowing head of the great studio, John Gilbert, the fading silent star who was one half of an unlikely friendship, and Norma Shearer, the determined star whose gentle love and patience brought great happiness to her boss, who also happened to be her husband.

The wedding. Irving's mom wasn't too happy, but Norma got her man

"The Heart of the Lion," covers the years 1925 though 1936, the year of Thalberg's death at age 37. A frail and sickly child, raised in fear by an over-protective and over-bearing mother, Thalberg's health was always precarious. The fact that he was not expected to live past the age of 30 was drummed into him as a child. Turnbull presents a young man who, believing himself to be living on borrowed time, feels compelled to achieve, achieve, and achieve. And achieve he did. You can almost hear the tick tick tick of time running out in Turnbull's prose, as Thalberg tries valiantly to grab the most life has to offer while all the while knowing that the shadow of death lurked nearby.

Turnbull paints a vivid picture of Hollywood in the 20s and 30s, the time when silent stars were gods, sound and the Great Depression shattered their west coast Mount Olympus and the subsequent rebuilding of MGM into a new kingdom that boasted more stars than there were in heaven. The sad demise of John Gilbert, Thalberg's great friend, is handled as a fate inevitable as it is heartbreaking. On the other hand, Joan Crawford is a brassy hoot and Harlow is a sassy charmer. It's great to spend time with them. However, the most important moments are reserved for those between Thalberg and Mayer, his feckless father figure who threw him over for son-in-law David O. Selznick, and Norma Shearer. The imagined scenes between Thalberg and Norma are beautifully done, with their intimate conversation at Carole Lombard's Mayfair Ball bringing a tear to my eye.

Oh yes she did! Norma (pictured here with David Niven, Merle Oberon
and Thalberg) did a Jezebel and wore red to
Carole Lombard's white-gown-only-please Mayfair Ball

For the record, this is a fictional biography, a novel, but the research is impeccable. Trust me: I consider myself a great repository of useless Hollywood history and detail and a few times I thought - aha! I spy a mistake! - only to find out I was wrong and Martin Turnbull was right.

Irving and Norma: Happy

Thalberg's name never once appeared on screen as a film's producer, but as MGM's Head of Production from 1925 until his death, his was the unseen hand that built a dreamland that endures in the heart of every classic movie lover to this day. Leo the Lion might have been the face and the roar of the great studio, but Thalberg was its beating heart, a heart that was filled with love for the movies and one that was taken from the world much too soon.

You can purchase "The Heart of the Lion," as well as Turbull's Garden of Allah novels Here

*Since Lillian Gish is downing a sidecar at a prohibition era Hollywood party, she might just have been sipping it primly from a teacup, don't you think?

Sidecar Cocktail recipe

1.5 oz Dudognon Cognac
1 oz Cointreau
.5 oz Lemon juice
Lemon twist

Shake over ice and strain into a cocktail glass, garnishing with the twist.

So, here's the thing. I am endlessly fascinated with and amazed by Charlie Chaplin.

For all you Buster folks, this is not a comparison. I really love Buster, too. What amazes me about Charlie (we are on a first name basis, just so you know), is how he remains relevant even 100 years after his first film.

I have been casually amazed at 1) how enduring his image is, and 2) how his face or his words or some subtle reference to him sneaks into our every day life if we pay attention. This growing awareness has been rattling around my brain for a while now (okay, for years now), but this latest commercial by, of all things, Lavazza Coffee, made me think that I had better start paying attention.

His remarkable words from 1940's "The Great Dictator" are as relevant and true as they were then, and his remarkable life and work has never faded from our collective consciousness. Ask a young person to look at his image and see if they can identify them. Chances are, they can, even if they have never seen a snipet of his films. I tried this little experiment the other day on a younger friend of mine and she answered without hesitation that it was Charlie, admitting that she had never seem a complete Chaplin film.

So, I was thinking of embarking on a little experiment - looking for clues of Chaplin in my daily life in ways great and small. It could be a quote, an image, a subtle reference... all to remind me of the endless well of brilliance and deep feeling he had for humanity and how mysteriously prevalent he remains after so many decades. I'm starting (and hoping to maintain) a weekly journal. If you have any Charlie sightings in every day real life, please feel free to share them with my Facebook group (FlickChick's Movie Playground) and I will include them on my Sunday roundup of Chaplin sightings right here. I have a tendency to poop out on these things, so any extra nudges are always appreciated!

Street art spied in France

And now, I'm keeping my eyes and ears open for signs from the Master!

Have you ever walked into an old house and wondered about the stories the walls could tell if they could talk? Or imagine the tales the trees in a forest could spin we spoke their language? Or, better yet, the locations in Hollywood that were silent witnesses to genius?

In my previous post I challenged myself to keep my eye out for Chaplin sightings and...voila! John Bengston of silentlocations.com has created this amazing video of this very unassuming little Hollywood alley. Take a look:

Not just Chaplin's "The Kid," not just Keaton's "Cops," but Lloyd's "Safety Last"! Oh, if only that little alley could talk.

And just for some added fun, imagine if the ground could tell you about this wild car chase!

Well, here's a then-and-now of almost every shot of his amazing ride:

https://silentlocations.com/2017/12/29/the-never-give-a-sucker-an-even-break-car-chase-part-1/

https://silentlocations.com/2018/01/20/the-never-give-a-sucker-an-even-break-car-chase-part-2/

Thank you, John, for this fascinating look at Hollywood history that is still there if you know where to look.

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association's Politics in Film Blogathon. For more examples of how this red hot topic is handled on the silver screen, click here.

Spoiler alert: this is going to get political. Typically, I try (sometimes not always successfully) to keep politics off this site, but since politics is the topic, I'm going all in.

Did Hitler steal Chaplin's mustache?

Chaplin's "The Great Dictator" is 80 years old this month. All these years later, after all of our history that came after, it still stands as a work of passion, of vision, of courage and humanity. And as a lesson that, in so many ways, we have learned so very little while hoping for so much.

For Chaplin's first true and total sound film he made the courageous choice of skewering Hitler, the Nazis, Mussolini and fascism with his 2 greatest tools, humor and humanity. When filming began in September 1939, Hitler had invaded Poland and Great Britain had declared war. Upon the film's release in October 1940, the United States was still at peace with Nazi Germany. Then, as now, the public was sharply divided over America's position on the world stage. Chaplin came firmly down on the side of global humanity, leaving an audience whose country was on the brink of war to view the choice through a moral lens.

Trouble in the ghetto of Tomania

Have you seen this great film? You should. Really. Briefly, Chaplin plays 2 parts: that of a WWI veteran Jewish barber who, as a result of a war explosion, lost his memory, and his exact double, dictator Adenoid Hynkel, the dear Phooey of Tomania, who looks so very much like Adolph Hitler, the dear Fuhrer of Germany. (Chaplin's hilarity with Hitler would be repeated - brilliantly - decades later by Mel Brooks in "The Producers." )

Chaplin as Adenoid Hynkel. The infamous swastika
is now the sign of the double cross in Tomania.

Chaplin has a lot of fun mangling and ridiculing Hynkel's henchmen. The Goebbels character, the Secretary of Propaganda, is called Garbitsch. Goring becomes Herring, and most memorable of all, Mussolini becomes Benzino Napoloni, Dictator of Bacteria, brilliantly played by Jack Oakie.

Jack Oakie as Napolini. Remind you of anyone?

The power-mad Hynkel has only one dream: to rule the world.

Conversely, the little Barber is a kind and gentle soul. Despite the persecution he and his fellow Jews suffer in the ghetto, he does get to enjoy a love affair with Hannah, his beautiful and spirited comrade in arms played by Chaplin's then-wife, Paulette Goddard.

Hannah and the Barber on the run from persecution

As the Barber, Chaplin even gets to update an old barber shop joke (deleted from the final version of his 1919 short film, "Sunnyside") with one-time Keystone co-star, Chester Conklin. Chaplin, like so many great comedians, was always ready to recycle a good joke.

The Barber is not exactly The Little Tramp, but he retains so much of him that the character becomes a gentle farewell to an iconic character. The Tramp could not really live in a world of sound, nor should he have had to live in a world of fear and hatred.

While there are many moments of humor, the actual story is quite terrifying and sadly prescient. The barber is saved from hanging and death in a concentration camp by the disgraced Commander Schultz, who, in gratitude to the Barber for saving his life so many years ago, refuses to kill him and defies Hynkel's orders. A series of events lead to the Barber having to stand in for Hynkel, who was mistaken for the Jewish Barber and hauled off to a concentration camp by the authorities (karma!). The Barber must speak to the people of Tomania, and, through he has never spoken to so many in such a public way, he finds his voice:

Chaplin added this speech* after Hitler had invaded France.

Today, we are hearing this speech more and more. It has been part of a Lavazza Coffee commercial called "Good Morning Humanity," and it has been popping up all over the internet.

For those who always insist on getting in the pointless Keaton vs. Chaplin debate, or give the knee-jerk reaction to Chaplin of "he liked young girls," I say this to you: Chaplin was a human being, a man of flaws and foibles. But he had a gift, and, at a terrible time in human history, he chose to go all in on a message of hope and humanity and to firmly and bravely come down on the side of right. Like most artists, he was a dreamer. But, by using his voice in such a powerful way, he was also a doer.

Be a dreamer. Be a doer. Vote.

* Here is the full text of Chaplin's speech at the end of "The Great Dictator."

We all want to help one another, human beings are like that.

We want to live by each other's happiness.

Not by each other's misery.

We don't want to hate and despise one another.

And this world has room for everyone,

and the good Earth is rich can provide for everyone.

You have the love of humanity in your hearts.

You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful,

to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Let us fight for a new world - a decent world that will give men a chance to work -

that will give youth a future and old age a security.

Let us fight to free the world - to do away with national barriers -

to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance.

Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness.

Let us all unite!

So, this is what happened the other day.

Alone

For some strange reason, the theme song from "High Noon," the 1952 western, invaded my brain. Now, you should know that I am not a western fan by any stretch and this song is never one that is on my playlist. Still, it persisted, first in the shower and later over coffee.

Now, normally I would push it out as best I could and go on about my day. But this time I decided to listen. Maybe the universe was telling me to watch that movie. And so I did. And so I was - what - blown away? Impressed? Kind of shattered and overwhelmed with the love of the power of film.

She stands by her man

Like I say - I'm not a big western fan, but "High Noon" is a morality parable disguised as a western. I think I know that is the case with many westerns, but I really don't like to see horses fall down, so....

Anyway, back to "High Noon." Somewhere in the recesses of my movie brain, I knew this story was a commentary on the 1950s blacklisting of writers with supposed communist ties.

The general consensus of the town is for Kane to cut and run

And, truth be told, I am not a big fan of the older Gary Cooper. The ick factor of "Love in the Afternoon" still lingers for me. But it is his weariness that comes with age that makes him so perfect for the role of Will Kane. I read that John Wayne was the original choice for the role and that he turned it down because he disagreed with the overt politics of the story. Thank goodness he did. I doubt Wayne would have conveyed the honest desire to retire and ride off to open a store with his new bride (although what man wouldn't be tempted to run off with Grace Kelly?). And just in case you're feeling none to kindly (western influence seeping in here) towards the Duke, he was mighty gracious in accepting Cooper's Oscar for the role.

Beautifully and simply filmed with nail biting suspense as the clock ticks towards high noon and Kane's moment of truth, the question looms - who will stick their neck out for what is right? Who will risk everything for the truth? Who will stand with those who have stood for us?

What would you do? May we never stop asking the hard questions.

It's been a while since I have been smitten with a new-to-me find (classic movie wise). Being a fan of those early days musicals, Bernice Claire has been on my radar, but I have never seen her in anything. Thanks to good old TCM, I finally got to see her in "Spring is Here," one of those impossibly awful but utterly charming early movie musicals.

In his book "A Song in the Dark," Richard Barrios describes Bernice Claire as "fetching," a word that perfectly describes her screen presence. Before there was Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy there was Bernice Claire and Alexander Gray. In that first flush of florid movie musicals their voices blended to produce musical magic. More about Mr. Alexander Gray later.

Just take a look at her... the smile, the pert little nose, the natural manner and the lovely voice. Oh, and please ignore that other Mr. Gray - Lawrence of the nasally, annoyingly ordinary voice. Here they are singing "With a Song in My Heart," from "Spring is Here" (1930) - courtesy of Rodgers and Hart.

Her more permanent partner in song was Alexander Gray. Like Nelson Eddy, he possessed a booming baritone, and like Nelson Eddy he did a great imitation of a piece of wood. I had seen Mr. Gray in "Sally," when he supported Marilyn Miller, but since her talent was dance, there were no big voice duets for him. He and Bernice Claire had performed together on stage prior to arriving in Hollywood, so First National (home to such wonderful early musicals) brought Bernice along with Alexander.

Cute as a button

Their first film appearance together was in the extremely popular "No No Nannette" (1930). Sadly, this movie, filmed entirely in Technicolor, is lost, except for an incomplete black and white version that exists at the British Film Institute National Archive.

Here they are with another number from "Spring is Here."

For a hot moment, musical were all the rage in 1929 and 1930 - until they weren't. Audiences turned on them in an almost vicious way and songs in already filmed movies were suddenly cut before they were released to the public. Take, for instance, 1930's "Top Speed," starring Bernice along with Joe E. Brown. Aside from being a really racy pre-code, there are moments when a set up to a song is begun, a little music plays and then the film abruptly and awkwardly cuts away to another scene.

Bernice gets second billing, but since most of her songs
were cut, she is almost the secondary love interest.

"Top Speed" is actually an interesting little film. While I do not appreciate the big mouth shtick of Joe E. Brown, I am always surprised at his innate musicality (his dance with Marilyn Miller in "Sally" was quite appealing). Also, the film starred a fellow by the name of Jack Whiting, who was entirely new to me.

Jack Whiting woos Bernice Claire in "Top Speed."

Now, he wasn't much of a leading man for Bernice, but when I did a little research on him I found that he was the last husband of the first Mrs. Douglas Fairbanks, Beth Sully. Of course, I had read how Doug's mad love affair with Mary Pickford wrecked his marriage to Beth, and she was always portrayed as the poor gal who stood in between the future king and queen of Hollywood. I was happy to learn that she and Mr. Whiting had a long and happy marriage.

Here she is in "Kiss Me Again" (1931), singing a song she was often requested to perform, but which barely survived all musical cuts from the film.

Bernice Claire made exactly 13 films from 1930 to 1938. She then concentrated on radio and stage performances, so for her, movies were just a brief interlude in her career. One of the reasons I love those early, goofy musicals is that it gives us a chance to see popular stage performers of the era. In those early days, studios imported established musical performers for those films. Because of them, we get to see performers like Bernice Claire and Alexander Gray, Fannie Brice and Marilyn Miller, just to name a few. Not all of them made the grade in Hollywood and their stars dimmed long ago, but thanks to film (at least the ones that have survived) we are blessed with the opportunity to see them.

This is my entry into The Classic Film and TV Cafe's annual National Classic Movie Day blogathon. This year's theme is 6 films - 6 decades. Click here to see more personal choices by some awesome movie lovers.

If you're like me, you have a list of favorites. And, because they are favorites, I've written way too many times about them. So, in the spirit of not boring myself, let alone you, to death, I've decided to pair an almost- top favorite with an absolute favorite to create a National Classic Movie Day Double Feature (remember those? If you do, you're probably a classic yourself). I'm also tying them together with a (sometimes very loose) thematic thread...sort of. Here goes...

1910s: The Immigrant and The New York Hat: Big Apple Love and Longing

The main feature is one of my favorite Chaplin shorts, 1917's "The Immigrant." The second feature is 1912's "The New York Hat." Chaplin gazes at the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor and Mary Pickford gazes longingly at a fancy New York hat in a shop window. There's always been something about New York.

$10 is a fortune for Mary in "The New York Hat."

Have you seen this film? This is a charming little short with a hefty pedigree. Directed by D.W. Griffith and written by Anita Loos and Frances Marion, it stars Mary Pickford and Lionel Barrymore in Mary Pickford's swan song to her Biograph association. I love everything about this film, including its sly and humorous take down of small town gossips, but mainly I am always - always - astounded by Mary Pickford's incredible star power. It is impossible not to take your eyes off of her or be enchanted by her. After 109 years, she is undeniably a bright and shinning and ever lasting star.

1920s: Our Hospitality and The Thief of Bagdad: Go Big.

The main feature for this decade would be Buster Keaton's great first feature, 1923's "Our Hospitality." I love the incredibly clever story and, of course, Buster's humor. But mainly I love this film for Buster's bravery and audacity in both his stunts and his incredible period recreation. The little guy went big in all ways.

The second feature pairing is Douglas Fairbanks' 1924 "The Thief of Bagdad." This film is epic in its splendor and size and in its romance. Photos cannot do itjustice. Check out this beautiful trailer for a real flavor of this film, accompanied by a beautiful Carl Davis (and Rimsky-Korsakov score). Norma Desmond (more about her later) said "they took the idols of the world and smashed them." Here at the height of his star power, Fairbanks creates an over-sized fantasy that is a feast for the eyes and imagination. This was the golden decade of movie magic and romance. Never again would film speak to the entire world in such a singular voice, never again would the private imaginations of movie goers soar in such private and personal splendor.

1930s: City Lights and Love Me Tonight: I Humbly Apologize...

The main feature is Chaplin's great 1931 "City Lights." I've written way too much about it already, so let's just focus here on the beautiful story of a poor fellow who will stretch the truth about his humble conditions to win the heart of his lady love.

Chevalier and MacDonald sizing each other up

The second feature here is 1932's "Love Me Tonight." Ah, "the son of a gun is nothing but a tailor!" (so the song goes). Chevalier, the humble tailor who masquerades as a nobleman to win his princess, oozes his most cheeky French charm, Jeanette MacDonald is at her sexiest and least artificial, there's a score to die for by Rodgers and Hart, and it's all directed in the Lubitsch manner by Rouben Mamoulian. An added plus: A delicious Myrna Loy, Charlie Ruggles and Charles Butterworth are along for this joyous and carefree ride. "Love Me Tonight" is a perfect cinematic confection that tastes like desert but is as pleasing as a full course meal. Isn't it romantic? Yes!

1940s: Double Indemnity and Leave Her to Heaven: Pretty Poison

"Double Indemnity" (1944) is one of my all time favorites. What more can I say? It is Billy Wilder perfect - which is perfect x 10 (at least). Barbara Stanwyck's unforgettable femme fatale is poisonously fatal to everyone, including herself. But, she had us at the ankle bracelet.

Please don't let Ellen take you swimming.....

The second feature for this decade is 1945's "Leave her to Heaven." Talk about a poison femme fatale. This noir in glorious color has everything: great locations, sympathetic secondary characters, and an irresistible potboiler of a plot. However, it all bows in service to Gene Tierney's psychopathic Ellen. Beautiful to look at, deadly to hold. I can't think of a femme fatale more beautiful and ultimately more loathsome.

1950s: Sunset Boulevard and Strangers on a Train: Kooks and Unrequited Love

Kooks and unrequited love seems to be a theme that runs through this decade. Sunset Boulevard is my favorite film of any decade and Norma Desmond one of my most favorite characters. Period. Poor Norma.... fruitcake mad for Joe Gillis... and poor Max...fruitcake mad for Norma. More Billy Wilder perfection.

Criss Cross....

Hitchcock's 1951 "Strangers on a Train," the other half of this nutty double feature, also has a kook who seems to be, if not in love, at least enthralled with his unwilling partner in crime. The way the word "Guy" drips out of Bruno's mouth is about as creepy as it gets. I kind of think even Norma Desmond would head for the door in Bruno's presence.

1960s: The Apartment and Charade: surrounded by baddies

Billy Wilder again! I guess all I need are Chaplin and Wilder films to feel happy. Aside from the complicated and adorable love story between Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine, one of the uncomfortable aspects of "The Apartment" is the casual immorality of of all those guys at Consolidated Insurance.

Seriously, what's not to love here?

1963's "Charade" finds Audrey and Cary (I'm on a first name basis with these 2) also surrounded by bad guys. That's about it for any connection to "The Apartment" (except maybe each has a memorable theme song). But, since this is one of my favorites from the '60s, I had to include it. It is beautiful, clever, thrilling and I love it. I never tire of it.

Oh wait! Can we have a triple feature for the 60s? I would gladly get more popcorn and sit through Mel Brooks'"The Producers" (1967) any time, any place. There are too many reasons why to count, but mainly because for the previous 4 years I kept repeating one line of the film over and over again (last line before the fade out):

Thank you, Mel Brooks, for all the laughs.

And many thanks to Rick at The Classic Film and TV Café for reminding us about National Classic Movie Day.. although for most of us, that's every day, right?

This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association Hidden Classics Blogathon. Click here for more hidden cinematic gems.

History is Made at Night (1937)

My love of film has to do with how they make me feel. While I don't always remember the exact plot lines, the camera angels or directorial strokes of genius, if I love a film I can always remember how it makes me feel. And the feeling I get from History is Made at Night is magically, unashamedly romantic... otherworldly romantic ....twinkling white star against a velvet midnight sky romantic.

See the look of love?

The chemistry between Charles Boyer (can you hear me sigh?) and Jean Arthur is bathed in enchantment. Now, I am not Ms. Arthur's biggest fan. Her quirky voice and quizzical manner seems a bit too much like a tightly wound corkscrew for me. However, here, with Boyer, she simply walks on stardust The way she looks at him and her quiet, delighted manner is an unapologetic surrender to love. In fact, the entire film makes no apology for it's singular devotion to love. There are no sly moments, no snarky comments that pass for sophistication.

Jean Arthur: still the American girl, this time with a continental glow

So why does this Jean Arthur wholeheartedly convince me she is more than the little list of annoyances she has presented to me in the past? Perhaps her appeal lies in the influence of a more continental partner in Mr. Boyer. Here he is the waiter who gives his all to his job and his all to romance. His charm is wrapped in his utmost and serious 100% devotion to love.

To the Romantic, food and love require total devotion

There is a pretty great villain here, too, in the person of Colin Clive. Man, he's a real stinker.

Not the look of a happy wife

Mr. Clive suffered from severe alcoholism and would die in 1937 at the age of 37. His dissipation is evident in this film and only adds to the depravity of his character as Jean's evil and possessive husband.

Is it any surprise here that "History is Made at Night" was directed by Frank Borzage, a true master of romance?

So, here's the bottom line: all the romantic, moonlit cinematic stars aligned for this film. There is a delightful plot, which I've totally neglected, and even a pretty exciting climax involving a Titanic-like ship sinking, but what stays with me is the feeling I get from this film. My heart aches for Boyer and Arthur, I root for them to succeed, they make my heart happy, I am enchanted by their charm and chemistry and, finally, I believe in the power of romantic love in its purest form.

I love the stories about the great movie pioneers, you know -L.B. Mayer, Adolph Zukor, the Warner Brothers. But, before the usual and more famous pioneers, there were the earliest pioneers, the dreamers who served as the scouts who cleared the path and laid the foundation for a road that lead to a great industry. D.W. Griffith remains a famous name, but many of those who came before the moguls have fallen into obscurity. While I had certainly heard of the Vitagraph Studio, the names of its founders - Albert E. Smith and J. Stuart Blackton - were unknown to me. Author Andrew A. Erish, in his book "Vitagraph: America's First Great Motion Picture Studio," gives them their due and tells the story of a great studio that, for a time, flourished in those exciting, early days.

While Vitagraph was established in Brooklyn, it also had a west coast studio

Two English fellows who had a hankering for show business, Smith and Blackton founded Vitagraph Studios in 1896 and set up shop in Brooklyn, NY. Starting with the days of the crude nickelodeon and progressing to shorts and feature films, the Vitagraph boys, like so many early pioneers, found themselves knee-deep in the endless patent wars with Edison, a financial struggle that would have defeated less determined men. They did prevail, but there always seemed to be bigger companies nipping at their heels.

A few Vitagraph stars. Jean Page became Mrs. Albert Smith

In their heyday, Vitagraph launched the careers of Maurice Costello (as well as his daughters Dolores and Helene as child actors), Corinne Griffith, Florence Lawrence, Florence Turner, Anita Stewart, Antonio Moreno and Norma Talmadge. Tribute is paid to forgotten superstars of the era, comedians John Bunny and Larry Semon. Even Moe Howard (the smart Stooge) makes an appearance as a teenaged extra. Life at Vitagraph seemed like a cozy, happy family.

Not quite the Dodgers, but a fine looking Brooklyn team

But, all good things must come to an end. The founders drifted in different directions and the company suffered. Eventually, the industry that they helped build got the best of them and, in 1925 Vitagraph was sold to Warner Brothers.

Vitagraph founders Albert E. Smith (center) and J. Stuart Blackton (right),
as well as partner William T. ("Pop") Rock (left)

The book is a mixture of good gossip and heavy, important research. Zukor, founder of Famous Players and later, Paramount, comes across as a ruthless and power hungry philistine, the author never letting us forget he was a furrier. Norma Talmadge, one of the silent screen's greatest stars, is described as a bit dim-witted. Smith and Blackton, while flawed, are clearly held in high esteem by the writer, with Smith's Christian ethics praised to the end. The book can get technical at times, but it offers a thorough and detailed history of an important studio and a good glimpse at those more innocent times.

Still standing

Vitagraph is long gone, but, in Brooklyn, a reminder of this once great studio remains. The smokestack that displays the company name somehow has managed to survive. There are luxury apartments now on the old studio lot. The name of the apartment building is "The Vitagraph," and, after a campaign to save the old smokestack, the developer of the complex as left it intact. I'm sure those 2 English chaps with show biz in their blood would be happy to see that last remnant of their life's work still standing.

"Vitagraph" America's First Great Motion Picture Studio" by Andrew A. Erish was provided to me at no cost for review.

VITAGRAPH: America’s First Great Motion Picture Studio

Me & Classic Film: Is This the End Of The Affair?

Biff Grimes: Character Crush 'Cause Character Counts

This Magic Moment: The Apartment

Liliom(1934): A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Hollywood.. or What Happened When 2 Germans and a Frenchman Met in Budapest

"The Stars" and 57 Years of Fascination

What A Character: The Ever Scandalous Estelle Winwood

Lady Sylvia Ashley: 2 Kings, 2 Lords and a Prince

Second Thoughts and Second Chances: My Dinner With Andre (1981)

National Classic Movie Day: 6 from the 60s

Classics For Comfort: Getting Out of the Comfort Zone

Gatsby and Me and Hollywood and the Heartbreak of the American Dream

Book Review: Martin Turnbull's "The Heart of the Lion": The Room Where it (Really) Happened

Charlie Chaplin Sightings....Will You Join Me?

Then and Now: If Walls Could Talk

Chaplin's "The Great Dictator" at 80: Dreamers and Doers

High Noon: The Cowards Among us

I'm Smitten: The Fetching Bernice Claire and the 2 Mr. Grays

National Classic Movie Day: 6 Decades/6 Double Features

History is Made at Night: Walking on Stardust

Book Review: Vitagraph: America's First Great Motion Picture Studio