A first: a friend (Gabriel Schechter) has requested space in this obscure forum to tell you about his own recent cinematic binge, which makes an M4 look like selected short subjects. Snarky comments in this color are, of course, the proprietor's.One of my happiest discoveries since moving to Oregon two months ago is that TCM is not my only option for classic movies, as it was back in upstate New York. In addition, I now have unlimited DVR (don’t ask—in NY, it was very tough and all too often when I had to delete a fine old movie I hadn’t gotten around to watching in order to make room for a freshly available classic I felt more likely to watch). It took me no time to accumulate a collection of movies here in Oregon, and even after weekend binges over the two holiday weekends, the taping [sic; I wonder whether he'll "dial up" to complain about my sneering at this obsoletism?] binge has continued. As I write this, I have a backlog of two dozen gems awaiting their turn. There are more on the way. I seem to be getting into a movie-a-night routine so far this year, late in the evening, a form of relaxation I haven’t allowed myself to enjoy for a long time.
I say “allowed” because in recent years I have too often “watched” the old favorites (many of which I’ve seen dozens of times) while doing something else, usually writing or futzing on the computer, dividing my attention. I mostly listen and half-watch, paying close attention to favorite scenes and speeches, but not to the details. When I resolved to spend each of the two three-day holiday weekends watching at least a dozen movies, I vowed to do nothing but watch them, and watch them closely. I wanted to see these movies with fresh eyes, maybe with something specific to track or watch for, maybe not. I have felt myself paying closer attention to my reading in recent months. I wanted to turn a sharper focus to these movies.
For the most part, I tried to emphasize movies I’ve seen no more than one or twice in my life, or at least not for a long time. I watched only a few that I’ve watched dozens of times, some of them favorites inherited from my parents, who lived in Manhattan from 1936-1939, the heyday of classic films, especially the screwball comedies I still love. In true Dan Heaton fashion [Excel spreadsheet obsessive? moi?], before the first binge, I made a list of the movies on my DVR, dividing them into categories and considering whether to cover a whole category in each day, to mix and match, or decide at the moment what to watch next. The result was a mix of all three approaches.
What I want to do here is give a short review of the two weekends’ worth of movies (14 over Christmas, 13 over New Year’s) plus a few that I’ve watched since the start of this year (ten of thirteen nights so far). After the title, I’ll indicate parenthetically how many times I have now seen the movie—exact counts for the small numbers, rough estimates for the big ones. My comments will probably be brief, covering the one or two things which stood out for me on this viewing. Here goes:
December 23-25, 2017
December 23
- “Some Like It Hot” (25) I figured I’d start with the best and give the others something to shoot for. Danny Peary gave this one three Alternate Oscars, and I paid close attention to Marilyn Monroe this time. Or I should say closer than usual. It’s quite a natural performance, the buoyancy covering the fragile core, a reflection of her true self. She’s adorable and irresponsible, vulnerable and determined, all of those qualities in almost every scene. [when I blogged this I termed that last line one of the half-dozen or so best ever; apart from Lone Star, I'm hard-pressed to come up with another film to put in that putative half-dozen]
- “Local Hero” (1) My Cooperstown friend Ron Visco has been urging me forever to see this one, and now I see why. It’s charming and disarming, and I couldn’t help feeling that it inspired “Northern Exposure” with its fish out of water who decides he likes the water. He’s also a bit like Dorothy in Oz, finding something he didn’t even know he was looking for. Burt Lancaster is a hoot.
- “Scarlet Street” (1) This was the second of three in a row that I saw for the first time. Danny Peary gave Joan Bennett an Alternate Oscar, and she deserves it just for her eyes. The marvel for me was Edward G. Robinson [who really was quite a good painter, don't forget] as a meek, mild man who lets everybody run over him until even he has to snap. Even with the film noir trappings, I found that I wasn’t ready for the dark resolution. I think it was because Joan Bennett was so beguiling that her manipulations seemed more frivolous than truly dangerous. That’s how she trapped Robinson, too.
- “How To Steal a Million” (1) A charming, gentle, stylish heist movie, it used the same formula as another film which I watched the other night, “Gambit,” which was released just a few months after “How To Steal a Million”. The earlier one featured Peter O’Toole and Audrey Hepburn as the thief and his lovely recruit, the latter Michael Caine and Shirley MacLaine. Plot twists aplenty, aging frauds, but I preferred “How To Steal a Million”. It is one of William Wyler’s later, lesser efforts, but it’s still Wyler, and he gave full attention to the look and feel of every scene and the nuances of every speech.
- “The Heartbreak Kid” (4) This is the original version, far superior to the Ben Stiller remake, starting with a Neil Simon script that it took five screenwriters to mangle in the remake. Elaine May directed her second movie, Cybil Shepherd acted in her second, and the whole affair was stolen by Charles Grodin. His determination to pry himself loose from his marriage and to pry Shepherd away from her hostile father (Edward Arnold, also great) was as formidable as Dustin Hoffman’s in “The Graduate”. All I have to do is think of him extolling “the sincerity of the cauliflower” and I crack up. [ages since I've seen this, but yes]
- “The Graduate” (20) I hadn’t seen this in ten years and had forgotten just how little time it takes Mrs. Robinson to seduce Benjamin. The most effective things are the visual effects, the camera angles and especially the silently shrieking Mrs. Robinson when Elaine runs away from her marriage ceremony. [not shrieking--whatever she is, she's no shrieker; as I recall:, she bitterly repeats "son of a bitch! son of a bitch!" Or maybe that's Mr. Robinson. But yes, wonderful move to cut them out of the soundtrack, and leave that to Ben & Elaine] She was wonderful. Remember the scene where Elaine suggests they go to the hotel where Ben has been trysting with her mother, and he drove over the curb. That’s one of the non-verbal effects that tells you everything that was happening inside the car, and whenever I see that scene I remember my father cracking up the first time we watched it together. [for me, the scene that has made this film a go-to for filmmakers ever since is the finale: they're smiling, they're triumphant, they've done it . . . and then their smiles start to face, and their expressions gradually shift to reflect . . . "what have we done? what do we do now?" I'll bet I've seen close to a dozen final-scene tributes to that one]
- “Cul-de-Sac” (1) I wouldn’t have found this if Danny Peary hadn’t given it an Alternate Oscar for 1966’s Best Picture. Well, this one blew me away. It was so grim that I watched nothing but comedies the rest of the day. It combines “The Desperate Hours,” “Waiting for Godot,” and three eyepopping performances. Donald Pleasence and Francoise Dorleac (Catherine Deneuve’s older sister who died in a car crash a year later) as the odd, isolated couple are fascinating enough, but add a truly astonishing performance by, of all people, Lionel Stander, and there is no escape from tension even for a second. He was a more powerful version of Victor McLaglen’s character in “The Informer,” but much more natural and menacing. That enormous face wrenched painfully as he tries to figure something out, the matter-of-factness of his violence, the visible strain of making one decision at a time – Polanski got an overwhelming performance out of Stander. And that voice!
- “The Party” (5) You have to be in the right mood for this one. It was a lark put together by Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers after their first wave of Clouseau movies, because apparently they had seven or eight hundred gags left over. A well-meaning bit actor who single-handedly wrecks a Hollywood party, Sellers enacts this mayhem slowly and patiently, cheerfully, accidentally, and thoroughly. I delight in every movement; that’s why they went to the trouble of including all eight hundred of them.
- “The Bishop’s Wife” (15) Linda and I watched this one every Christmas. I understand that Cary Grant was originally supposed to play the bishop, with David Niven as the angel. Thank goodness they got it right. The movie just makes you glad about things. Niven got the answer to his question, Loretta Young got her hat, Gladys Cooper got her memories back, and Monty Woolley was writing his book. But my favorite scene is ice-skating with James Gleason. I love those character actors from the 1930s and 1940s. Gleason is one of my favorites, along with Edward Everett Horton, Franklin Pangborn, and Barry Fitzgerald. And many more.
- “The Man Who Came To Dinner” (10) I saw this one on Broadway around 2000 with Nathan Lane and Jean Smart, and it was quite entertaining, but I like the movie better. Monty Woolley is better, closer to the intellect of Alexander Woollcott I think. The whole thing is a delight, though I can’t help wondering how Bette Davis got involved in it, because the whole show belongs to Sheridan Whiteside.
- “A Christmas Story” (20) A must-see to start Christmas even for a devout agnostic. Maybe I’ve thought this before, but watching Darren McGavin’s performance made me wonder whether it’s the character of the father who’s the center of the story or McGavin’s portrayal that seems the one indispensable aspect of the movie. If James Brolin had played it, wd we still be watching it every year? [this is 3 in the past few that I'm supposed to love but just . . . don't. Actually, one of them I saw once and absolutely loathed, but I won't tell you which.]
- “Real Life” (4) I’m a big Albert Brooks fan. “Lost in America” is in my all-time top 20 [you are not allowed to say "nest egg"; in fact, you can't say either "nest" or "egg." At breakfast, you can order "bacon and things." . . . Or something like that. In other words, I'm back on track with you, though this is one I need to see again], and I’ll be watching “Modern Romance” again soon. But “Real Life” is a gem, a sleeper, a devious satire of what was a brand-new genre then (the Loud family fracases on PBS) but is rampant now, making it more timely than ever. Brooks is brilliant as himself, Charles Grodin is equally brilliant as a real fake person, and the satiric idea is executed to perfection, with the most stupendous finale in film comedy history.
- “The Quiet Man” (10) This was another Christmas favorite of Linda’s, not a holiday film but one they happen to show every Christmas. As with most of the movies I chose during this binge, this one is packed with delicious performances and vignettes, in this case ranging from the ravishing Maureen O’Hara and a sympathetic John Wayne to the impish Barry Fitzgerald and Ward Bond fishing. It took John Ford a long time to get financing for this un-Fordlike film, but it was worth the wait. The two extended scenes at the end—Wayne hauling O’Hara back from the station and battling Victor McLaglen—are worth a separate price of admission.
- “Manhattan” (12) If I watched Albert Brooks, could Woody Allen be far behind? I think this is his best movie. He had turned the corner in “Annie Hall” but was even better here at shedding the gratuitous gags and making a serious movie about people who are often funny. But it’s the cinematography more than anything else that captures me, the loving black-and-white views of the city—the true subject of the movie. Throw in Gershwin and Tracy’s face, and the portrait is complete. [I agree (well, except that Annie Hall is better), but I'm in a long process of trying to figure out what to do with my birthday mate--and this film is perhaps the squirmiest text in that investigation]
December 30
- “A Fish Called Wanda” (5) This is another wonderful ensemble performance, but I can see why Kevin Kline got that Oscar. His extremes of exuberance and stupidity are exponentially more outrageous than anything we see on the screen, and there’s plenty to see. Even the Pythons do well to keep up with him, though poor Archie Leach does get bogged down in some plot considerations beyond the scope of Kline’s character. And what a comeuppance! [c.f. remark above containing the word "loathed"]
- “Rear Window” (30+) I think it’s Hitchcock’s best, and it’s my favorite. Two things stood out for me this time. One is that tone-changing instant midway through, when Grace Kelly is scoffing at Jimmy Stewart’s interest in the jewelry salesman. The camera is on her face as she half-listens to Stewart’s latest theory, and then her eyes move ever so slightly to her right. Whatever she sees makes her face freeze, and she says, “tell me everything, from the start, and what you think it means.” Now they’re in it together, and Hitchcock showed it with the minutest shift of her eyes. The other thing I delighted in was how many short stories Hitchcock told about the inhabitants of that courtyard, each with a beginning, a middle, and an ending. Miss Torso, Miss Lonelyhearts, and the others are as real to Stewart and Hitchcock as Raymond Burr. The film is great not just for its suspense but for its well-rounded story-telling, all done with a camera and from a distance. [not my choice as #1 (NxNW), but certainly in the pantheon]
- “House of Games” (5) Danny Peary gave Joe Mantegna an Alternate Oscar for this performance, and I’m all in favor of it. Every glance, every shading in his voice, every gesture has a double meaning, and we cannot avoid the lure of buying into anything he proposes. Even though I didn’t detect any charisma in Lindsay Crouse’s performance, that’s the way her husband, David Mamet, wanted it. So I was riveted throughout at this wrinkle of the old notion that we all have good and evil within us. [never seen, but occasionally notice it there in my Netflix queue, buried]
- “The Conversation” (1 [??????? How the fuck did that {not} happen??????]) Another Alternate Oscar went to Gene Hackman for this one, and again I think Danny rewarded a riveting performance. Hackman is so perfectly absorbed in his character’s psyche that he even doesn’t listen in character. That’s as close as I can explain it. His self-worth is so wrapped up in his expertise that it clouds his humanity, and Hackman conveys that comflict powerfully. I’ll watch this one again sometime. [geez, don't do us any favors; you come all over A Fish Called Wanda and barely shrug your shoulders over this? In an unrelated matter (i.e., not to give you further shit, given that Oscars don't necessarily denote quality), but this was nominated as best picture but lost to another film by the writer/director, who was on a pretty good winning streak]
- “One, Two, Three” (5) I remember seeing this one in the theater when it first came out, and my parents and I cracked up at Jimmy Cagney’s hyperactive Coca Cola executive. The bit players hold up the edges of a comedy set in Berlin just the Wall was put up , but this late Billy Wilder romp is all about Cagney’s energy. I would imagine that at the end of shooting, he thought, “Well, that was fun, but that’s enough.”
- “North By Northwest” (25) TCM had a Hitchcock marathon over Christmas weekend, and I stocked up on a few. The composition of the shots stood out for me this time. He’ll have a shot with one thing covering most of the space, while the action occurs in that little part left over. The cropduster scene is only the most famous of them, but they’re all over the place—at the U.N., on the train, and all over South Dakota, especially around that amazing house. ["What does the O stand for?" "Nothing." Would you believe that the very first time I saw this (which, to be fair, was not earlier than 1983), a friend came by and almost immediately spoiled a character's secret identity (see: I have enough regard for people who might not ever have seen it not to do the same, though you obviously know whom I mean)]
- “My Favorite Wife” (5) This is still a very entertaining movie because of the charm of Cary Grant and Irene Dunne, but it’s inferior in every way to “The Awful Truth,” which they made a few years earlier. The script isn’t as witty, and the characters don’t have as much fun.
- “Apollo 13” (20) This is one of the two movies from the past 25 years that I can watch over and over again, and often when channel-hopping will join it somewhere in the middle and watch. This time I paid closer attention and tried to figure out why I keep watching. A big reason is that I am still blown away by the fact that the astronauts made it back safely. Apart from Ron Howard getting solid performances from everyone and stirring performances from a few key people, this movie fascinates me because of the problem-solving itself. My favorite scenes are Ken Mattingly in the practice module, working out the sequence for starting everything up without using too much power. It’s the process of working out the puzzles that fascinates me. Even when I know the answers, I’m wowed by how they worked it out.
- “A Day at the Races” (50?) What better way to see out the old year than by watching the tutti-frutti scene between Groucho and Chico? Seriously. It became a running joke with Linda. If something I said puzzled her, I’d say “I guess you need the breeders guide for that one.” I recently watched a retrospective on the Carol Burnett show which featured a lot of Tim Conway’s stuff. It struck me that Conway was doing Harpo’s old shtick from movies like this one—but in slow-motion. The wrecking of the race at the end is their most sustained bit of high-level comedy. High-hat!
January 17, 2018
- “The Producers” (15) I wanted to start the year with movies that must have been fun to make. I know Gene Wilder said that Zero Mostel terrorized him in that opening scene, but they clearly had a ball, and how they kept straight faces with Ken Mars I do not know (Mars could’ve gotten an Oscar for this one). My parents told me what a dynamo Mostel was on the stage. It’s too bad there isn’t more of him on film like this. Gene Wilder’s speech to the judge always cracks me up, too. My father generally deplored attempts to find humor in the Nazis [huh. go figure. How did he feel about cancer humor?], but even he couldn’t resist this romp. [this is another one that I--inexplicably, it is often said--just really have never had any use for. In fact, had Brooks made only Young Frankenstein, that would have been fine by me.]
- “The Princess Bride” (6) What can you say about this one? It’s a delight from start to finish, with many wonderful moments along the way. You see why it made the Opening Day lineup. [another one I've never understood the cult fuss about, though I'm a lot likelier to give it another chance than A Christmas Story (which has had a couple) or The Producers (which has had more than a couple]
- “Ruggles of Red Gap” (20) This was one of my parents’ favorites, and since I saw it in childhood it has been one of mine as well. If you haven’t seen it, see it! This might have been the only movie in which Charles Laughton was mild, soft-spoken, charming, and utterly sympathetic. Plus he falls in love with ZaSu Pitts! Talk about a fun couple. My favorite scene is Roland Young trying to play the drums, but Laughton reciting the Gettysburg is not only moving but is probably the most Capra-esque scene not filmed by Capra. I have read that he performed it during World War II bond rallies. Don’t miss this one!
- “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming” (6) Yep, all four movies on January 1 were wonderful comedies. I hadn’t seen this one in a long time. There aren’t many actors more versatile or consistently engaging than Alan Arkin. He’s the glue that holds this one together, the one person who doesn’t panic and who sees the big picture. As with “The Princess Bride,” it’s packed with delicious little performances (Wallace Shawn and Billy Crystal, for instance, in TPB), like blustery Paul Ford and Theodore Bikel. And how did Carl Reiner and Tessie O’Shea hop down those stairs without breaking their necks? Here’s another question: if you replaced the Russians with birds and had them attack this group of people, who would win?
- I’m writing this two weeks later and have been watching a movie every evening. They have included three by W. C. Fields (The Bank Dick, It’s a Gift, and Never Give a Sucker an Even Break), two Cary Grant classics (Charade and Holiday), a very strange movie about Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention titled “200 Motels,” [saw that in a late-night twin bill w/ Alice's Restaurant; no extra credit for guessing which I liked better] the very disturbing “Barton Fink,” [one of my favorite Coens films, which is saying a lot--this may have been when I started taking John Goodman seriously] “Lost in Translation,” [love this film, but I'm starting to think it's the only great film Sofia Coppola is going to make] “Big Night,” “Alice,” and “Pride and Prejudice”. Watching that last one, I once again fell in love with Elizabeth Bennet as played by Greer Garson. Every time. I saw a fine PBS production in the early 1980s with a captivating Elizabeth played by Elizabeth Garvie, and I’m told that the Keira Knightley version is terrific. That’s fine. It’s the character that gets me, a beautiful, smart smart-ass. And Garson is the actress I associate with the feeling, a blend of actress and role that I find irresistible. Other examples of that kind of response? Lauren Bacall in “To Have and Have Not,” Ingrid Bergman in “Notorious,” Louise Brooks in “Pandora’s Box,” and Ruth Gordon in “Harold and Maude”.
Th-th-th-th-thaaaaaaaat’s all, folks.
Thanks, Gabe, that was fun. Feel free to return w/ another installment.
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