Deanna Durbin Sings Silent Night



I watch this scene from Lady on a Train (1945) every year, because it gives me a feeling of peace that I feel should be a part of the season, but because of the chaos of celebration and preparation often isn't. Now in an increasingly chaotic world, I find it even more comforting and inspiring. I hope Deanna Durbin knew how much joy she spread by simply sharing her voice.

Happy Holidays, Solstice, New Year or whatever it is that inspires you to eat, drink and be merry. Thank you for reading.

Flicker Alley: Clara Bow and Gary Cooper in Children of Divorce (1927)


To contemplate Clara Bow and Gary Cooper together onscreen is to fear these irresistibly watchable stars will cancel each other out. After all, what else could happen when two performers who consistently steal scenes in other films appear with each other? In the 1927 silent Children of Divorce, nothing quite that dramatic happens, it's pure pleasure to see them together. Now the film is available in its DVD/Blu-ray world premiere, in what is also the 50th release for the always meticulous Flicker Alley.

Bow, Cooper and the elegantly appealing Esther Ralston are Kitty, Ted and Jean, childhood friends who have all suffered because their parents divorced and then essentially abandoned them, both physically and emotionally. They grow up fragile, but determined to avoid the mistakes of their progenitors. Instead, they make entirely different, more complicated missteps.

Kitty is in love with Ludovic (Einar Hanson), but he hasn't got enough money to keep her the way she pleases. Ted has money, but he and Jean are in love. Disregarding her friend's happiness, Kitty tricks a drunken Ted into marriage, and while he is disgusted by her actions, she eventually has the child that the more maternally yearning Jean desires. Of course there are consequences for her actions.

It's a lousy plot, but you don't realize it until the film is over. This is mostly due to the mesmerizing presence of its stars. With Cooper, you can't look away because you always wonder what thoughts are fluttering beneath those bashful giraffe eyelashes. When it comes to Bow, the opposite is true; every flicker across her face tells you exactly how she is feeling. Sometimes it is enchanting; occasionally it makes you feel like you've been socked in the gut.

This is not to short-change Ralston either. While she clearly doesn't have the charisma of her costars, she is charismatic. Her reassuringly thoughtful presence perfectly suits her role as a woman who yearns for a peaceful, maternal life.

The film is visually in tune with the emotions of its core trio, primarily due to a switch in vision. Credited director Frank Lloyd (Cavalcade [1930]) started with the production, but didn't draw compelling performances from his leads. The uncredited Josef von Sternberg was enlisted to film a sort of remake after hours, and was particularly effective in getting a heart wrenching performance from Bow, leading the director to speculate on how well she could do if Paramount Studios gave her better material. But that was not to be.

Children of Divorce has been restored by the Library of Congress from an original nitrate negative and a 1969 fine grain master in its holdings. While there was too much deterioration for a pristine restoration, it's impressive how sharp and clear the image generally is. For a brief moment in one scene the damage to the film was too severe to be repaired, and you are reminded of how fragile film is and how fortunate film fans are to have access to it at all, let alone an often quite beautiful print.

Special features include a booklet with an excerpt from David Stenn's biography of Bow, and notes about the music, making and restoration of the film. Also included: the 1999 television documentary Clara Bow: Discovering the "It" Girl, which is heartbreaking, but inspires a greater appreciation of what the actress had to offer.

Many thanks to Flicker Alley for providing a copy of the film for review.




Top 7 Favorite Classic Film Books of 2016

I reviewed twenty-three classic film books this year, and I found something to love about all of them. It wasn't easy to pick favorites! These seven were true stand-outs, because they brought something new to the table or elaborated on familiar stories and legends about the golden age of cinema in an interesting way.

The titles for each pick link to my original reviews, each of which are excerpted below:



Harlan Lebo helps you to understand just how astounding the circumstances surrounding this legendary film were, from its filming to the controversy that surrounded its release. Welles' RKO contract gave him freedom that few filmmakers before or since have had and he also faced greater pressures when his masterful debut offended one of the most powerful men in the nation....If there is any film that begs for an in-depth examination, it is Citizen Kane, and Lebo has been thorough in his research. It should please any fan of the film, Welles or the art of filmmaking, and fans of outrageous stories about the studio age. 



A Thousand Cuts is essentially a series of interviews with various collectors, each of them given a spotlight in which to tell their story. While many of the (mostly) men in this community know each other, and refer to one another in their talks with the authors, it is interesting that they are profiled separately, each providing their own unique take on the phenomena of collecting and its decline.... It was interesting to get a closer look at the collector side of Leonard Maltin, who is best known for his books and reviews, and the chapter in which Robert Osborne reminisces about the film collection of his friend Rock Hudson had some wry insights that made me miss his presence as a TCM host. It was also wonderful to learn more about the fastidious Kevin Brownlow and his quest to rescue Abel Gance's silent epic Napoleon (1927). These three are among the less eccentric characters in a book full of people so devoted to film that they will lie, steal and screw each other over to get the prints they want.


Elizabeth Taylor: A Private Life for Public Consumption, by Ellis Cashmore

Cashmore is an academic who writes with the zest of a seasoned entertainment reporter. His well-researched, engaging text covers several decades of popular culture, making a case for Taylor's influence and exploring other groundbreaking public figures in the rapidly changing landscape of 20th century public life, like Jackie Onassis, Princess Diana, Madonna and Michael Jackson. He follows her from screen stardom through her years as an AIDs activist and perfume mogul, and on to the actresses' continued influence after her death in 2011.



King of Jazz: Paul Whiteman's Technicolor Review, By James Layton and David Pierce

One of the best aspects of the book is that it does translate the meaning and importance of the stars, traditions and style of the film for modern audiences.Understanding these elements can increase the enjoyment of a film that otherwise can seem to zip along with little reason or form. It goes into the history of its players, placing the studio, band, performers, and Whiteman especially, in their various industries and explaining how they all came together....The book is modest in its assessment of the film. There is no claim that this rather jumbled spectacle is a universal classic in need of enormous revival. It makes a strong case for its appeal though, from the cheerful skill of its performers and the fun of seeing Bing Crosby in his first film role to the stunning designs of Herman Rosse, who won the Oscar for best Art Direction for his work on the production.



Dolce Vita Confidential: Fellini, Loren, Pucci and the Swinging High Life of 1950s Rome, by Shawn Levy

When I learned of the publication of Shawn Levy's Dolce Vita Confidential, my first thought was, "Please let him write about the time Anita Ekberg threatened the paparazzi with a bow and arrow!" Levy does chronicle this brief, amusing episode and many other sensational tales of the wild life in 1950s Rome. However, these bits of dolce indulgence sit on a solid foundation, one where I found even more intriguing storytelling and a fascinating history of a city, and country, pulling itself out of the devastation of World War II and glittering more brightly than it had before....Many of these stories were retold through Fellini's unique lens in La Dolce VitaA significant portion of the book is devoted to this influential, controversial film. The director was stunned to inspire such anger with his film and perhaps also a bit amazed by the extent of the acclaim it won as well. Upon exiting the premiere, Sophia Loren said to him, "Poor you: What do you have inside of you?"





Mary Astor's Purple Diary: The Great American Sex Scandal of 1936, By Edward Sorel

The Purple Diaries: Mary Astor and the Most Sensational Hollywood Scandal of the 1930s, By Joseph Egan

It has certainly been the year of the Purple Diary....Of the two books, Sorel's is dancing around with a lampshade for a hat; Egan's is sitting by the fireside, with a strong cocktail in hand. I love both, but if you're looking for details, the latter is where you'll find them.

****

These are just a few of my favorites. It has been a great year for classic film books. What are your top picks for 2016? Please share in the comments; it doesn't have to be a book published this year!

Warner Archive Blu-ray: It's Always Fair Weather (1955)


Billed as "a gigantic and joyous musical," part of the appeal of MGM's Stanley Donen-directed It's Always Fair Weather is that it often isn't that way at all. In contrast to the cheerful optimism of the studio's typical output, this film admits that life can be disappointing and that one time friends can turn out to be insufferable, though somehow it ends up shuffling away with a smile anyway. Now this television-age take on the Hollywood musical is available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

Gene Kelly, Dan Dailey and Michael Kidd star as Ted, Doug and Angie, a trio of soldier buddies who emerge from World War II full of hope and optimism. Downing drinks at a New York bar, they vow to meet there again in ten years, determined to keep the connection they have made.

A decade later, they keep their promise, but find they can't stand each other. Ted has stayed in New York, never settling down and barely making it as a boxing promoter; Doug has given up his artistic dreams to draw cartoon mops for television and pop pills for his stomach issues and Angie has open a restaurant called the Cordon Bleu, which despite the polish of its name is a small town burger joint. The three leave each other in disgust, but eventually find that they are ready to give their friendship another chance.

Aside from the novelty of its bitter edge, It's Always Fair Weather is special because of the variety and classic virtuosity of its musical numbers. Choreographers Donen and Kelly are clever in their use of props, enlisting garbage can lids, the curbs of set-bound city streets and even a taxi cab in a high-powered number with Kelly, Dailey and Kidd. Kelly is also exhilarating dancing on roller skates; he didn't get there first (see Astaire and Roger in Shall We Dance [1937]), but his vigor and athleticism are astonishing. And then there's Cyd Charisse dropping her mysterious leggy lady persona to be light, fun and even a little silly with a crowd of boxers in Baby, You Knock Me Out, one of her most impressively athletic dances.

All of these numbers could make a film a classic on their own, so it is amusing that it is actually Broadway star Dolores Gray, in a supporting role as a slick television hostess, who steals the show. In the show stopping, Thanks, But No Thanks, she is so charismatic and insouciantly sexy that you wonder how she could have gotten away with only making a handful of films in Hollywood. In her later years the actress herself wondered if she should have preserved more of her legacy on film, but she chose the stage, and at least we have this amazing number to console ourselves.

In 1955, studio executives were ill-at-ease about the rise of television. They responded to the phenomena by stretching films across the screen in brilliantly-colored Cinemascope, and making productions bigger, bolder and completely unlike anything television could accomplish. Here MGM tackles TV head on, trying to make it look ridiculous, from the idea of a talking mop, to the oily ways of a soda pop pitchman. That brightly-lit box wasn't going anywhere though and even on this production the studio would have to cut costs.

One number that was trimmed for budgetary reasons was a light-spirited Charisse and Kelly duo, which gives the film an odd feel since it is customary for romantic leads in a musical to pair up at least once. A rough version of that number is included in the special features on the disc, along with several other scenes, and you can see why it was cut. Instead of a sinuous coming together of lovers, it's a goofy, if utterly charming romp through a room filled with costumes. Lots of fun, but not crucial to the film. That said, it was amazing to see these two being silly together.

Other special features on the disc include a featurette about the film, two segments from the MGM Parade featuring Charisse and Kelly, a pair of cartoons (Deputy Droopy and Good Will to Men), audio of the cut song I Thought They'd Never Leave and a trailer.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

Book Review--The Purple Diaries: Mary Astor and the Most Sensational Hollywood Scandal of the 1930s


The Purple Diaries: Mary Astor and the Most Sensational Hollywood Scandal of the 1930s
Joseph Egan
Diversion Books, 2016

In 1936, Mary Astor was in the process of filming what was arguably her best performance in the William Wyler-directed drama Dodsworth (1936). She was a few years away from her Academy Award win and the role for which she would be most famous. She had been twice married, once widowed and once divorced. She had had many love affairs; all a part of her continuous quest for romantic sensation to compensate for a lack of emotional maturity.

Astor also had a four-year-old daughter named Marylyn and the actress's battle that year to win custody of her from ex-husband Dr. Franklyn Thorpe was front page news. This was because the Dr. had swiped Mary's candid, and steamy private diaries and hoped to use them as evidence against her. In a new book, Joseph Egan explores this explosive trial and the events surrounding it.

It has certainly been the year of the Purple Diary. Back in September I reviewed artist Edward Sorel's saucy, heavily-illustrated take on the trial.  His is a more personal, playful perspective. Of the two books, Sorel's is dancing around with a lampshade for a hat; Egan's is sitting by the fireside, with a strong cocktail in hand. I love both, but if you're looking for details, the latter is where you'll find them.

Egan takes Mary's story from the beginning, which makes sense, because in understanding her life, it is easy to see how she ended up on a witness stand begging for her child. The actress didn't have a strong family foundation. Her father was overbearing and abusive; her mother cold. Once they realized they could make money off of their pretty daughter, they pushed her into the movies and lived richly off her salary.

An affair with Beau Brummel (1924) costar John Barrymore introduced Astor to sex as a way to fulfill her emotional needs. The actor could not tear her away from her overbearing parents, but he planted a seed and eventually she freed herself, sneaking away in the middle of the night and eventually greatly reducing the amount they skimmed from her paycheck. Many affairs would follow, and eventually a sexually bland marriage to director Kenneth Hawkes, who died in a plan crash after two years of marriage.

Astor's second marriage, to Thorpe, would ultimately be even less satisfying, with both relying on affairs with others to satisfy their needs. Turned off by her husband's cruelty and dependence on her salary, the actress found solace in a steamy romance with playwright George S. Kaufman. She shared her experiences and emotions in detailed diary entries, written in brown ink that would look like purple from a distance, hence the name it got in the press.

Astor with baby Marylyn
After months of fighting, threatening divorce and relenting, Astor finally decided she had to be free. Thorpe didn't take it well. He stole the diary, hypocritically threatened to expose her affairs and bullied her into giving him full custody of their daughter Marylyn. Due to a busy studio schedule, Mary had little time to spend with her child, but she loved her desperately and was heartbroken to lose control of her upbringing, despite the fact the Dr. gave her extensive physical custody.

Astor bided her time, and a year after the divorce she decided to go to court. She was aware that the potential exposure of her diaries could ruin her career, but she didn't care. The actress wanted her daughter more than anything else.

Astor with Marylyn and son Tono (from her marriage to playboy Manuel del Campo) in 1944
Egan tells Astor's story with smooth efficiency. He captures important nuances, facts and emotions, but he doesn't weigh his narrative down with unnecessary details. The players in this drama are fleshed out like characters in a play, among them the angry Dr.; the brave, but emotionally damaged Astor; her Dodsworth co-star Ruth Chatterton, who risked her own reputation to sit near her in support at the trial; and Mary's clever lawyer Roland Rich Woolley, who read people so well they could never tell he was manipulating them until it was too late.

The trial and the surrounding drama makes up the bulk of the book, and it is exhausting in its twists and turns. It is astounding to think that for most of the trial Astor was working on Dodsworth during the day and in the courtroom in the evening. No wonder she looks so weary in photos from that time.

Egan takes you into that courtroom, describing the spectators so determined to keep their seats that they would bring lunches to eat on breaks, the expressions of Thorpe, Mary and those who supported them as revelations were made and the exasperation of presiding Judge Knight, who felt the whole thing undignified, overextended and an enduring threat to the sanity of young Marylyn. He writes about Mary's friends sitting with her, Ruth Chatterton chewing gum and Florence Eldridge (wife of Fredric March) smoking a cigarette and you really get a sense of how it felt to be in that room.

I also loved the way the photos in the book were arranged for maximum enhancement of the text. Often when I'm reading, I find myself going online to find images to clarify the text. I never had to do that while reading this book. Every time I wondered what somebody looked like, or even how they looked in a certain moment, I'd flip the page and find the image I wanted. When visuals are approached effectively, they can increase the power of a book exponentially.

This was an interesting read, revealing as much about the people involved as the trial they endured. And Astor did endure. In a few years she played her most memorable role as Brigid O'Shaughnessy in the Maltese Falcon (1941), she'd win an Academy Award for The Great Lie (1941) and there were several years of movie and television roles to come. She tried marriage two more times, and emotionally she would always struggle, never completely finding her way to true human warmth and affection, but she knew how to take care of herself and ultimately came to a graceful end.

I understand and respect Mary Astor a lot more than I did before.

Many thanks to Diversion Books for providing a copy of the book for review.

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 no secret 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

Etsy
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:

Etsy

Etsy




Etsy

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 an 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:
TCM

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 excessively 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 where what is said is already being expressed perfectly with images. 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.

Warner Archive: Peter Bogdanovich Revealed in One Day Since Yesterday (2015)


I've always had a lot of respect for Peter Bogdanovich, both as a filmmaker and as a custodian of film history. When many of the great directors were still alive, he befriended these legends and recorded their thoughts for future generations. He would also pay tribute to the style and stars of classic Hollywood in films like Paper Moon (1973) and The Last Picture Show (1971). That said, I have also often been a bit put off by his seeming arrogance, a sort of haughty, above-it-all air he's carried with him throughout his career. In the documentary One Day Since Yesterday (2015), now available on DVD from Warner Archive, all these aspects of the director's life and persona are explored in a loving, revealing, and lightly critical way.

While the documentary covers Bogdanovich's entire career, it focuses on his 1981 romantic comedy They All Laughed and his love affair with one of the film's stars, Dorothy Stratten, who would be assaulted and killed by her estranged husband before the release of the film. It is in essence an exploration of what made Bogdanovich the person he was before and after this tragedy.

Currently working film directors, former stars in Bogdanovich productions and his family offer their thoughts, while the director himself opens up about his work and the tragic relationship that has colored his life. At the time of Stratten's death, the pair were on their way to spending a life together. They seem to have been a good match: Bogdanovich saw beyond the actress/model's beauty to her emerging intellect and inherent compassion, while Stratten kept him humble and grounded.

Even at twenty Dorothy Stratten was beginning to reject the treatment she received as an otherworldly beauty. While her looks propelled her to a certain success as a playmate and actress, she did not bank on them for her happiness. She was intellectually curious, and acutely in tune with the emotions and motivations of those around her. The documentary captures a bit of her fire in a clip from The Tonight Show: when Johnny Carson asks her a question that offends her, she turns it around on him, subjecting him to the same intrusive gaze that he has inflicted on her. The flustered talk show host hardly knows how to react to her authority.

Bogdanovich is still clearly grieving the loss of Stratten. The typically dour director cracks a rare smile when he shares a story about how he was starting to flip his lid about something and she leaned over him to gently say "your heart, darling, your heart." He so revered her that you wonder if the relationship could have matured into something less starry-eyed and more aligned with the rhythms of daily life.

You can learn a lot about someone from the people they know and where Bogdanovich is concerned, it is clear he cherishes women. The most illuminating interviews in the film come from former love and lifelong friend Cybil Shephard, friend and They All Laughed star Colleen Camp, Stratten's sister Louise (to whom he was married for thirteen years) and his two daughters. These sharp, intelligent and loyal ladies have clearly felt valued by the director and they know him best, revealing his arrogance and generosity with great candor.

I've always felt a bit ill at ease about Bogdanovich's marriage to Stratten. Aside from being much younger than her sister, and the director, I wondered if he was chasing the dead in marrying her. It didn't seem healthy to me. It was fascinating to hear both Louise and Peter describe how the alliance helped them to heal from the trauma of Dorothy's murder. Being together assured them both of always being near someone who understood the feelings of grief and loss. While it is true that Bogdanovich saw something of his lost love in her younger sister, it is clear that the relationship was and continues to be strong and mutually supportive.

While Bogdanovich's quirks are approached with honesty, his work is essentially given a pass. Directors Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach offer uncritical appraisals of the director's work, focusing more on paying tribute than offering analysis. I found this a bit disappointing, She's Funny That Way (2014) was an entertaining film, but I felt skeptical of interviewees in the film who compared this less graceful effort with the airily romantic They All Laughed. I got the feeling that the love for the director was so great, and the need for him to succeed so strong that critical thinking could not enter the picture.

The film digs into the controversy and backlash Bogdanovich experienced as the first celebrity director, revealing the director's own discomfort with fame and eventual popularity with studios as a filmmaker striving to make art in a business driven by profits. While his flaws are not ignored, his methods are essentially justified. Perhaps he got wrapped up in the excitement of fame and success, but he was always in it for the movies. One Day Since Yesterday makes that obsessive passion clear and shows how it could help a man living with an unshakable tragedy to survive.

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.

Book Review: The Story of a Film and a Restoration, The King of Jazz (1930)


King of Jazz: Paul Whiteman's Technicolor Revue
James Layton and David Pierce
Media History Press,

In 1930, a struggling Universal Studios hitched its hopes for resurrection to two mega-productions: one, the dark anti-war epic All Quiet on the Western Front the other, a frothy Technicolor musical revue called King of Jazz. While the former would go on to become one of the most universally lauded films in cinematic history, the latter would have a more complex trajectory. In a new book, James Layton and David Pierce tell the story of this unusual film and the recent restoration that brought it to life again.

King of Jazz the book begins with the story of its players: Universal Studios and its father-son team of Carl Laemmle and Carl Laemmle, Jr.; director John Murray Anderson, who came fresh to movies from the stage; Paul Whiteman, the enormously successful band leader who is practically forgotten today; and the diverse cast of vaudeville players and rising stars in the cast.


Paul Whiteman and his band
At the time, Whiteman was the major draw. Wealthy and in demand, with a string of number one hits and several satellite bands traveling the country, the rotund band leader with the tiny mustache was a star. Today, he is best remembered as the man who commissioned Rhapsody in Blue, a version of which is the centerpiece of the film. As the decades passed, and King of Jazz has seen various reissues, including a home video release, Bing Crosby has emerged as the face of the film, though he only appears in a few songs as a member of the Rhythm Boys singing trio.

King of Jazz requires some explanation for modern audiences. Rather than make Universal contract players attempt to be musical stars, as had been the case with most revues at other studios, director Anderson, with the exception of Universal crooner John Boles, pulled his performers from vaudeville. And so you have acts like the German sibling act The Sisters G, comedians William Kent and Grace Hayes and cabaret artist Jack White, all presented like the greatest stars you have never heard of.


The Sisters G

There are also the so-called "blackout" acts, brief, sometimes seconds long comedic skits that zing out a punchline before flashing to a black screen. This is where Universal stars, like Laura La Plante, made the most significant contribution. This vaudeville tradition, with its blink-and-you'll-miss-it speed, makes a lot more sense with a little explanation.

One of the best aspects of the book is that it does translate the meaning and importance of the stars, traditions and style of the film for modern audiences. Understanding these elements can increase the enjoyment of a film that otherwise can seem to zip along with little reason or form. It goes into the history of its players, placing the studio, band, performers, and Whiteman especially, in their various industries and explaining how they all came together.


A particularly lovely page from the book

King of Jazz
explores different prospective versions of the film and describes in detail the various ways the studio created tailor-made versions for foreign audiences. It also digs into the differences between different releases of the film, which has seen a lot of cuts and re-editing as it has gone from re-release and television to video cassette and the recent reissue. An appendix goes into the geekiest of these details, outlining different sources for restoration, cut scenes and production histories.


The book is modest in its assessment of the film. There is no claim that this rather jumbled spectacle is a universal classic in need of enormous revival. It makes a strong case for its appeal though, from the cheerful skill of its performers and the fun of seeing Bing Crosby in his first film role to the stunning designs of Herman Rosse, who won the Oscar for best Art Direction for his work on the production.

One of the most useful and enjoyable sections of the book is the scene-by-scene synopsis which describes, and occasionally illuminates the action of the film from start to finish. I found I enjoyed King of Jazz much more after reading this chapter.


The Russell Markert Dancers en pointe for the Rhapsody in Blue production number

It's a nice-looking book, loaded with photos, posters and advertisements which all help to tell the story of the film. For the most part I found the formatting pleasing; I liked the full page photos and the balance between photos and print materials. However, the print is very small and sometimes I found it a strain to read. I also found it difficult to make out the details in some of the photos when they were arranged, two or more to a page. Perhaps there is some economizing at hand there, but I would have liked to have seen full-page photos for at least the stills of the larger production numbers, rather than the portraits and dual shots of performers the book favored for full page reproductions.


The Melting Pot final production number

So much of the magic of this film is in the look of it. While the rough copies of it that have been floating around over the years provide mild entertainment value, the musical is vastly improved when viewed in a restored version. I've yet to see the full restoration, but the few scenes I have seen give it the feel of an entirely different film. When properly presented, the two-color Technicolor cinematography and the elegant simplicity of the sets enhance the action in an almost magical way. The book describes the journey to this dramatic transformation in such an engaging way that I can't wait to check out the restoration.

Many thanks to Media History Press for providing a copy of the book for review.

Images courtesy and property of Media History Press.


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