Book Review--Hitchcock, Roar and Manicures in Tippi: A Memoir

Tippi: A Memoir
Tippi Hedren with Lindsay Harrison
William Morrow, 2016

Though she's made her living acting, performing has never been the center of Tippi Hedren's existence. Most famous for the two movies she made with Alfred Hitchcock, The Birds (1963) and Marnie (1964), those experiences were brief, if significant, episodes in a busy, rich life. The actress and animal advocate speaks candidly about it all in a new memoir.

While her family had to be careful with money, Hedren was blessed with loving, supportive parents and the sort of beauty that made opportunity come to her. When she was in her teens, a modeling scout gave her a business card as she walked down the street one day, and it was the first break in a long career. When she began to age out of modeling, Tippi moved to Los Angeles, where commercial work led to her being discovered by Alfred Hitchcock, who she remembers with "admiration, gratitude and utter disgust."

Without fully understanding what she was signing up for, Hedren agreed to enter an acting contract with Hitchcock, eager to find a regular source of income as she was a single mother (to actress Melanie Griffith). The director and his wife Alma groomed the young actress for stardom, and she was shocked to eventually be offered the lead in The Birds.

Hedren in 1965
What followed was an intense experience, full of the perks of stardom, but also horrific because of Hitchcock's unrelenting sexual obsession with the actress. There has been a great deal of criticism of Hedren's revelations about her relationship with the director. I've found it difficult to understand the skepticism, since it was well known that Hitch was known for erotic fixations on his actresses, and for making inappropriate sexual comments to stars like Ingrid Bergman (who dealt with them by laughing and saying he was a "naughty boy").

No one can account for what happened between Hedren and Hitchcock in private, but it is entirely plausible that the director groomed the actress in the hopes that he would better be able to control her than the bigger stars he usually had in his films. It could easily have been his way of finding both an actress for his film and the fulfilment of his erotic obsessions.

Hedren and Hitchcock in a promo for The Birds
The criticism that Hedren has "changed her story" over the years can be answered by the scorn of the male critics and writers who have commented since the release of the book. Victims of sexual harassment and abuse are inevitably the targets of more abuse and disbelief when they make their stories public. It is always a risk, and talking about it takes great bravery. Often that is why women chose to speak of it later in life, when there is less at stake.

Hedren's experiences with Hitchcock and indeed acting in general are not the focus of her memoirs though. Most of the book is devoted to how she came to love big cats and other exotic animals, and how she has cared and advocated for them throughout her life. This includes providing a sanctuary for homeless animals at her preserve Shambala and working to change laws to ensure their protection.

Another notable effort Hedren made to bring attention to her beloved animals was in her production of the notoriously troubled Roar (1981). Along with her dangerously impetuous husband Noel Marshall, the actress spent eleven years making a film featuring the animals on the preserve. Acting alongside their own children, they and the crew members suffered through life-threatening injuries (they practically had their own wing in the local hospital), lack of funding and even natural disasters to make what was ultimately a financial disaster (it probably would have been worse if they went with their original title choice: Lions, Lions and More Lions).

In addition to her animal advocacy, Hedren has also devoted a lot of time to human rights organizations. During the Vietnam War she took two dangerous trips to visit soldiers. In the war's aftermath, she returned to provide services and resources to Vietnamese refugees.

This led to Hedren taking on responsibility for several refugees who traveled to the States, where she helped them to find training and employment. The women admired the actress's nails, inspiring her to ask her manicurist to train them in the profession, after which she helped them to start their own businesses. With that one effort, she started a billion dollar manicure industry that still thrives today.

Hedren and her daughter Melanie Griffith in 2014
Hedren shares these experiences in a frank, open manner, though keeping the more salacious romantic details under wraps. She is honest about the shortcomings in her three failed marriages, but grateful for the good that came of them. Clearly it is her daughter Melanie who is the true love of her life, and her devotion to her, and candor about the lack of attention she gave her as child in her early years despite her deep affection, are touching and refreshing.

It's a bit disturbing how unaware Hedren seemed of the danger she caused others with the frequent escapes her big cats made, sometimes into residential neighborhoods. In one passage she seems more concerned about the trouble her preserve could face if one of her escaped cats were to attack someone, rather than fearing for an innocent victim. She seems to have come around though, and even worked to enact legislation which would protect humans from the dangerous, natural impulses of these animals.

Hedren has had so much handed to her because of her beauty and strong family background and she could have had a much simpler, easier life. That she has chosen the harder, more fascinating road and used her privilege to help others throughout her life is inspiring and admirable. In fact, in a further act of generosity, all proceeds from her memoir will be used to fund the Shambala preserve.

It's a fascinating read from an independent, adventurous and big-hearted woman.

Book Review: When Broadway Went to Hollywood

When Broadway Went to Hollywood
Ethan Mordden
Oxford University Press, 2016

What would post-silent age Hollywood have become without the contributions of talents from Broadway? It's difficult to envision the industry developing the way it did without the infusion of stage actors that gave the early talkies life and nearly impossible to imagine without the talents of musical stars and songwriters. In a new book, Ethan Mordden explores the latter as he pays tribute to the songsmiths who called Broadway home, but also made significant contributions to films.

Covering the film musical from its start to the current day, the book focuses on songwriters and their lives working for the studios, though there are a few chapters which focus on related topics like operettas and roadshow musicals. Mordden provides biography, context and analysis of the success of these artists in search of bigger paychecks and greater renown for the work. He writes about these contrasting showbiz cultures and how stage properties were altered for a more widespread audience.

While movies could make these songwriters rich and famous, they had much less power in Hollywood than in the theater. Studio heads wanted their talents, but generally had little respect for Broadway artists.

Mordden writes in a lightly humorous style. Sometime he's funny; occasionally he makes you groan. He gives the history life though, keeping the pace buoyant as he unravels the details.

I was a bit baffled by the technical language he used to describe songs. If a couple of decades of music lessons were not sufficient to make descriptions like "flatted submediant major with a minor seventh" and "dominant seventh chord and 4/4 time" easily decipherable, then I'm guessing this aspect of the book will definitely confuse the average reader. I felt I lost something of the message in that regard.

The strongest sections of the book are the tributes to the greats. Composers like Cole Porter, the Gershwins, Rogers and Hart, and Jerome Kern provide interesting insight into their lives and Hollywood experience. The Irving Berlin chapter is especially engrossing, beautifully visualizing the musical legend's impact on musicals. Profiles of lesser-known composers like Frank Loesser, Jerry Herman and Harold Arlen, and the analysis of modern musicals are not as strong, though to be fair, this is likely due in large part to those stories lacking the same intrigue.

Mordden inserts a great deal of his opinion into the text, and he is knowledgeable, so these insights are for the most part useful. Some readers may take issue with some of his assessments of performers. For example, I felt a bit irked when in discussing Elizabeth Taylor he commented about "whether or not one feels that she has the thespian skills," a common insult that I feel unfairly dogs the actress.

While I was certainly aware of the strong connection between Broadway and Hollywood and how important that was in the early age of sound movies, I'd never given it much thought. When Broadway Went to Hollywood, gave me a good overview of the way the town treated these east to west coast imports. In the end, it is easy to see why the movies were an attraction for theater-based composers, but never a replacement for the glories of the stage.

Many thanks to Oxford University Press for providing a copy of the book for review.

Warner Archive: James A. Fitzpatrick Traveltalks in Technicolor, Volume 3

For armchair travel via time machine, there's no beating James A. Fitzpatrick's Traveltalks. From 1930 to 1954, this prolific producer filmed hundreds of Technicolor shorts all over the globe. I missed seeing the first two Warner Archive volumes of these fascinating little films, but very much enjoyed the 66 shorts in the recently released volume three, which covers the years 1940 to 1953.

The three disc set literally goes all over the map, even from film-to-film. If you sit down to watch several shorts in one sitting, you can go from Brazil and New Zealand to the Andes and the Taj Mahal within an hour. In a world where jet set travel had not yet reached its peak, and focus was on World War II and postwar recovery, seeing places like these before the nightly matinee must have been stunning.

Today the films still impress, though more for the efficient time capsule they provide. The Traveltalks recall life at a slower pace. There are fewer cars and people, and you can even see that the cities have cleaner, clearer air. Overviews of big cities like Chicago and New York are juxtaposed with scenic shots of National Parks and natural wonders, the urban spots in particular almost appearing to be from another world because of the distance of time.

Fitzpatrick kept his subjects at arm's length, choosing long shots over close-ups. You are more likely to see group shots and scenery than anything to provide true insight into a culture. The films are essentially a peaceful and jolly catalogue of places and activities. You do not see the stress of a rural farmer or a busy city dweller.

For the most part the Traveltalks series ages well because Fitzpatrick is a fairly straightforward narrator, avoiding jokes or asides that could date the material. There are moments of racial insensitivity and exoticism of foreign people, but they aren't as glaring as other travelogues I've seen from the time.

The films show their age and the images aren't sharp, but the warmth of the Technicolor does much to make viewing the shorts a pleasurable experience.

I found it a soothing experience to pop these DVDs in the player and take an easygoing trip around the world.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

In Theaters: Fandango and TCM Present Breakfast At Tiffany's (1961)

I had a lovely time at the multi-plex this afternoon, where I had the rare opportunity to watch a classic film in the kind of theater that is usually home to the latest big screen blockbuster. Because of this, it always feels like a triumph to me to attend movies presented by TCM Big Screen Classics and Fathom Events. In the past I have fulfilled the dream of seeing Miracle on 34th Street (1947) and The Wizard of Oz (1939) in a theater through these screenings. Today I saw a film I have loved since I was a teenager, but never had the chance to see on the big screen: Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961).

The screening included an intro and outro by TCM host Tiffany Vasquez. This is one of my favorite parts of the series, because it always makes the event feel intimate and special. While I thought I knew pretty much all there was to know about Breakfast at Tiffany's, Vasquez did share a few tidbits after the film that were new to me.

Seeing a film that has been a part of your life for many years in a theater is always an interesting experience. You end up laughing at jokes that would never inspire a giggle at home and some audience reactions can be shocking and even cringe worthy. In this case I was a bit stunned by the laughter that Mickey Rooney's racist portrayal of the photographer Mr. Yunioshi inspired; a performance that the actor and director Blake Edwards themselves would later regret.

I was also amused to hear snoring from near the front of the theater, starting  less than an hour into the film and lasting until the end. Maybe someone was trying to humor their significant other and failed?

Over the decades I've been watching Breakfast at Tiffany's, my feelings about it have gone through many changes. As a teenager, I was impatient with the developments of the plot, and more interested in Hepburn, her gorgeous fashions and the rhythm of the dialogue and Henry Mancini score. In later years, I paid more attention to the relationships, and eventually fully understood the lonely aimlessness of Holly Golightly (Hepburn) and her upstairs neighbor Paul Varjack's (George Peppard)  lives and of those who tried to control them.

While I still adored the fashion, music and amusing script, this time around I felt more indignation than I had before about the way people treated Holly Golightly. Just about everyone she meets feels the need to tell her how to be and even what to feel. From the men she meets in nightclubs, to her ex-husband and even Paul himself, she is treated like their possession.

Oddly enough, I also felt more sympathy for those people than I had before too. I teared up when Doc Golightly opened those blue eyes and showed he knew he was going to get on a bus broken hearted. It made me crumble a bit when Paul thought Holly was married and realized how disappointed he was to lose the possibility of her love. It isn't just Holly's suitors that tugged at me either, as 2E, the glamorous society lady keeping Paul, Patricia Neal made me feel her need to have some control, over a man, over the decoration of his apartment and in the kind of attention he paid her.

While Breakfast at Tiffany's has its flaws, it is deservedly a classic. Beneath its glossy exterior is a cast of desperate characters; their heartache, and the skill of the actors who play them, keeps the production from becoming insubstantial fluff. As if to soften the edges, this film is also devoted to romance, making a dramatic change from the ending of the Truman Capote novella upon which it was based to claim that Hollywood happy ending in a way that has rarely, if ever, been matched.

There are still showings of this film across the country this week! Tickets for the 2:00pm and 7:00pm shows on Wednesday, 11/30, can be purchased at Fathom Events.

Next up for TCM Big Screen Classics: From Here to Eternity, with showings on December 11 and 14.

Many thanks to Fathom Events for providing tickets to the show.

Image courtesy of Fathom Events.

2016 Holiday Gift Guide for Classic Film Fans

Well the dust has settle from Black Friday and Buy Nothing Day has passed, so let's do some Classic Movie Style shopping! Over the past year I have gathered lots of great gift ideas for classic film fans and I am excited to share them with you.

Get some inspiration for gifts, or simply print this post, circle your favorites and leave a few copies in strategic locations around your home, or wherever it will fall under the right pair of eyes (links to product pages under photos):

There are seemingly endless options for classic film lovers at Red Bubble, a site where you can buy clothing, stickers, pillows, bags and many other items with the image of your choice. I've bought a lot of movie-themed t-shirts from them, and I'm very tempted to grab this Mary Pickford bag next:

Red Bubble

And if you're looking for a great grocery bag, look no further than the Ava Gardner Museum in Smithfield, NC. They just started offering this lovely shopper this year:

Ava Gardner Museum

I also love the design on this TCM bag, which is made by BAGGU, my favorite grocery bag maker:

A random search for "film reel" items on Etsy one day led me to the great film strip gift bows at the top of the page and these cute necklaces and pillow. I actually have the necklace with the glass-topped film reel charm and have worn it every year I've attended TCM Classic Film Festival:




My talented, movie-crazed pal Kate Gabrielle has long made fun classic movie-inspired art, pins and the like. It's impossible to pick a favorite, but I do especially love the detail work on her Maltese Falcon pin:
Kate Gabrielle
I'm in love with this pork pie hat that has long been a  offering of the International Buster Keaton Society. If the $75 price tag is a bit steep for you, check out the other Keaton-inspired offerings on their website, including hats, shirts and pins:
The International Buster Keaton Society

Or you could buy this snappy fedora from the TCM site:

There were so many great DVD releases this year that I couldn't possibly cover even all of the best of them, but here are a few that stood out:

This year Flicker Alley celebrated its 50th release with the DVD/Blu-ray debut of Children of Divorce, starring Clara Bow and Gary Cooper.

Milestone Films also released a fourth disc in its remarkable series featuring filmmaker Shirley Clarke. This time it is a 3-disc set of her short films.

It was bittersweet to see the final volume of Warner Archive's Forbidden Hollywood series come out this year, but it was enjoyable to the last film.

While the Pierre Etaix box set from Criterion Collection wasn't released this year, it served as my introduction to the French comic, who I knew very little of before his recent death. Watching these films was one of the most enjoyable viewing experiences of the year. A treat for any fan of classic comedy.


This year I've been having a great time reading books that were the basis for classic films. If your loved one has a film favorite that was based on a novel or story, try tracking down the literary inspiration. While many of these tomes have been re-released over the years and even made available on eBook, it can be even more fun to track down a vintage copy of the book, like the paperback version of Build My Gallows High pictured above, which served as the basis for the classic noir Out of the Past. Many of them are surprisingly affordable.

I have several new movie books to recommend as well, to be shared in a future post!

More ideas for classic film gifts

Make a donation for film preservation in the name of your loved one:

National Film Preservation Foundation

The Film Foundation

Film Noir Foundation

Buy a subscription to a disc rental or streaming service:

Perhaps Mubi, the brand new FilmStruck or ClassicFlix? (Full disclosure I write monthly DVD/Blu-ray reviews for ClassicFlix, but I also use and enjoy the service.)

Buy admissions or a pass for a film series or festival:

Noir City, San Francisco Silent Film Festival, TCM Classic Film Festival and Capitolfest are just a few of the options. Keep your eyes open for upcoming special showings or movie events in the area where your loved one lives.

In Theaters: The Technicolor-Hued Sorcery of The Love Witch

The Love Witch, now in theaters, will get a lot of attention for its brightly-colored retro look, but it is perhaps most striking for the way it revels in the rarely explored female point of view. A visual throwback with modern ideas about love, romance and their navigation by women and men, it doesn't rely as much on its images as it could, but is a memorable, carefully-crafted work by the meticulous cinematic woman-of-all-trades Anna Biller (Viva).

It is a horror film, with black comic touches, about Elaine (Samantha Robinson) a glamorous witch who is desperately in search of love and not afraid to cast a few spells to find it. With a destructive understanding of sexual politics, she murders disappointing lovers, all of whom can't handle the consequences of getting everything they think they want from this perfect dream of erotic femininity. Her traveling companions include men with square jaws to do Russ Meyer proud, perfectly groomed ladies with steely backbones and a cheery interior designer who finds herself in the unfortunate position of being the only person with a firm grasp on reality.

The look of The Love Witch is as pleasurable as a Technicolor musical or a Hammer horror film. Bright with carefully coordinated reds, blues and pinks, to watch it is to feel your eyes open a little wider and your senses engage with more intensity. It has a warm, rich look, partially due to being filmed on 35mm film, but in several scenes it is clear that expert lighting and filtration are at play as well. This is no doubt thanks to the work of seasoned cinematographer M. David Mullen (Mad Men, Jennifer's Body).

Biller has made decisions about visuals that feel precise and deliberate: in an early scene, Elaine exits her red Ford Mustang with a matching red suitcase, bag and cigarette case, while flashing perfectly-manicured red nails. The color scheme telegraphs her erotic power, but to behold it is a pleasure in itself. Sometimes it's just exciting to enjoy perfectly composed details.

I found the same pleasure in the beautifully executed costumes, all found or made by Biller. There are swinging mini dresses, high-necked lace gowns, silky underwear and wigs galore.

There's so much to love here: beauty, some amusingly quirky acting that is sure to please fans of classic film, an effectively menacing soundtrack (a mix of Biller's compositions and music from classic Italian horror films), and a narrative that is refreshingly female.

If only the message of The Love Witch wasn't spelled out in such painfully explicit detail. There is liberal use of voiceover narrative; which sometimes works brilliantly, but is often unnecessary, because the visuals are strong enough to communicate the message on their own. There is also a long explanation of sex magick and feminine power by a warlock and his witch friend that tries the patience and nearly takes the zing out of a zesty burlesque club scene. There is an overall feeling that Biller doesn't know her own power to communicate visually.

Biller does transmit her message though, and she uses a deliciously female visual language incorporating things like Elizabeth Taylor-level green eyeshadow, a tampon soaked with menstrual fluid and the most traditionally feminine adornments. 

She has also found a remarkable messenger in Samantha Robinson, whose performance as the lovelorn Elaine is a triumph of confidence and commitment. The actress constructs a flawless, supernaturally beautiful shell, while subtly revealing the narcissistic rot and madness at her core.

The film is an unique experience, unusually luxurious in the way that it has been so carefully executed, but rarely stifled by the precision of those preparations. It is artfully conceived and faithful to its message in a manner rarely seen in the business of film. This is clearly the triumph of Biller whose belief in her craft, and ability to execute her vision, makes me feel hopeful for the future of cinema.

Many thanks to Oscilloscope for providing access to the film.

Book Review--Joseph Mankiewicz, Cecil B. DeMille and a Legendary Directors Guild Meeting

Hollywood Divided: The 1950s Screen Directors Guild Meeting and the Impact of the Blacklist
Kevin Brianton
University Press of Kentucky, 2016

On October 22, 1950, over 500 members of the Screen Directors Guild met late into the night at the Beverly Hills Hotel. It was a special meeting, called to discuss Cecil B. DeMille's rather sneaky attempt to recall Joseph Mankiewicz as the group's president, due to the director's opposition to an anti-communist loyalty oath, while he was vacationing in France. This tension-filled gathering, dominated by the most powerful directors in Hollywood, led to dramatic changes for the Guild, in addition to decades of exaggerations and fabrications about the events of that night.

In the short but substantial Hollywood Divided, Brianton describes this HUAC-era conflict in detail, picking apart each rumor to find the truth about an event that would shake up the guild's board, and revealing how it would affect the film industry. He describes the events that lead to the meeting, including a brief background of HUAC and the black and gray lists enforced by the studios that affected many filmmakers. He describes the main players, focusing Mankiewicz and DeMille, digging into their histories and describing their reputations, so that the events of October 22 can be better understood.

Hollywood Divided is a window into the intellects of the men whose works drove Hollywood (Ida Lupino, the only female director present that evening at least gets a hat tip) and how they related to each other. While directors like George Stevens, John Huston and Rouben Mamoulian showed their disapproval of DeMille with varying degrees of passion, John Ford commanded the room at a key moment to defend C.B., claiming he didn't like him, but that there should in essence be a civil resolution to the conflict. This uneasy brew of anger, fear and adherence to gentlemanly codes of conduct seems to speak to the changes to come in Hollywood and American society at large; the young directors had a different way of approaching the issue than more established filmmakers like Ford.

While I have some interest in the politics of the HUAC era, I had my reservations about reading this book. As a person who avoids meetings at all costs, how fascinating could it be to read a book about one? But to be serious, Brianton's account of the night of October 22 is as riveting as a big screen thriller. With several of the best minds of Hollywood all speaking passionately about the matter at hand, it should be no surprise that the whole thing played like a drama, and Brianton captures all the details that made the evening fascinating, frustrating and consistently surprising. The best section of the book describes the event in great detail, capturing the mood of the night and providing insight into the words of each speaker.

It's an interesting window into mid-century politics in Hollywood and the inner workings of the boy's club that shaped American cinema during the studio age.

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing a copy of the book for review.
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