Several months ago I rented The Duchess of Langeais from Blockbuster (it was an exclusive to that outlet) and watched it. But I didn't write about it because at the time I wasn't making the time to write. I had health issues (a bad reaction to a prescribed medication), work was stressful and consuming, and while I enjoyed watching films, I really didn't feel like writing about them. I was burnt out after a decade on the job and need a bit of an extended vacation.
Well, the same film recently turned up on the Sundance Channel and I watched it again, because, frankly, I had enjoyed it a lot the first time. I also was particularly drawn to the film because of its French title Ne touchez pas la hache, or as it was known in the United Kingdom, Don't Touch the Axe.
Adapted from a Balzac novella by Pascal Bonitzer, Christine Laurent and director Jacques Rivette, The Duchess of Langeais opens with General Armand de Montriveau (the late Guillaume Depardieu in dashing mode), a military veteran of the Napoleonic wars, who makes a pilgrimage to a convent in Spain in order to speak with a Carmelite nun known as Sister Theresa (Jeanne Balibar, who also starred in the director's Va Savoir). After the interview, Theresa announces that she has lied to the Mother Superior -- the military office was not a relative but her lover -- and then the story flashes back several years.
Five years earlier, the pair had first met in Paris. At the time, she was Antoinette de Langeais and he was a celebrated military figure who had been wounded in battle in Africa. They share an immediate attraction, but societal pressures cause her to only play the coquette. Frustrated, Armand resorts to kidnapping the duchess and threatening her. But she continues to refuse to surrender herself entirely to him. He pulls away and she then recognizes how much she loves him. There's a failed rendez-vous that leads them to the Spanish convent and the film's tragic denouement.
The Duchess of Langeais falls nicely in with much of Rivette's work, embracing themes of enslavement and escape. The movie's logline could read something along the lines of Beauty and the Beast meets Les Liaisons Dangereuses. There's romance but the relationship takes on a decidedly martial tone. Antoinette enjoys being a flirt and a tease, but she pushes too far and Armand resorts to what he knows best, battlefield strategy. She becomes an object to defeat in order to possess and that leads to the multi-year separation which in turn leads to tragedy.
The cast is superb with Balibar appropriately mercurial and sensual while Depardieu delivers a memorable performance as the man who lashes out at that which he cannot have. There's also strong support by veteran actors Bulle Ogier and Michel Piccoli (the co-stars of Belle Toujours) who proffer advice to the duchess on how to handle her affairs.
Watching the film now, though, there is a poignance to Depardieu's work. He had lost a leg to an infection following a motorcycle accident, so he employs that in his characterization of this wounded general. Now, following his surprising death from pneumonia, watching his work invokes the same sort of feelings that seeing any performer gone too soon (e.g., James Dean, Heath Ledger), the prospect of what might have been. For many years, Depardieu acted in the shadow of his famous father, but along the way, he came into his own and was establishing himself as a strong screen presence. This film is one that serves as a testament to his abilities. Rent it or seek it out on Sundance.
Rating: A-
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
December 9: Hotel Gramercy Park
Back when we both lived in Manhattan, my pal Beverly and I used to take walks through the city and one area we invariable ended up visiting was Gramercy Park. Bev used to say that her dream was to end up living in an apartment at the Gramercy Park Hotel. Now in the 1990s, the hotel had seen better days, but there was still a sort of shabby chic vibe. After all, this was a place with history. Built in 1925, the hotel had a checkered but somewhat illustrious history.
In 1926, Humphrey Bogart and his first wife Helen Menken were married there. A family from Massachusetts with the surname Kennedy once lived there on an entire floor. Babe Ruth patronized its bar, while literary giants Edmund Wilson and Mary McCarthy lived there.
By 1958, the hotel was sold to Herbert Weissberg and under his ownership, the hotel became noted for its bohemian appeal. Musical performers ranging from Bob Dylan to Bob Marley to Debbie Harry to David Bowie were among those who graced the halls. Things went along until the 1990s when tensions within the Weissberger family eventually led to the sale of the hotel to Ian Schrager. Schrager overhauled the hotel, giving it a facelift, upgrading its decor and generally bringing it into the 21st Century.
Director Douglas Keeve (who made the wonderful portrait of Isaac Mizrahi entitled Unzipped) was fortunately asked by a local resident of the Gramercy Park area to document the changes to the building, inside and out. Thus was born Hotel Gramercy Park, his delightful, quintiessentially New York film.
Lately, I've been very nostalgic for the Manhattan in which I lived and this movie helped me capture a small part of a time that has passed and an era which is gone. Keeve was fortunate to be granted access to the surviving members of the Weissberg family, several longtime residents of the hotel (who refused to vacate during its renovations), and to Ian Schrager.
What emerges is a portrait that is heartbreakingly sad (there was much tragedy in the Weissberg family, from the overdose of one scion to the suicide of Herbert's son David, who had battled drug addiction in the past), eccentic (mostly the oddball residents of the hotel, including Tony-nominated lyricist Ira Gasman whose lovely tune "Everything I Want Is in Manhattan" becomes almost his defiant anthem), and determined (Schrager and his vision of what the hotel should be, replete with art work from his private collection as well as provided by Julian Schnabel). The various strands of the tale wend together to create an unforgettable movie.
The upshot is that a quaint downtrodden hotel with history was given a multi-million dollar face lift and has emerged as a trendy spot. It's the way of life in Manhattan, where history is paved over to be forgotten, except by filmmakers like Douglas Keeve, who function like archeologists, digging out those wonderful historic gems.
Rating: B+
In 1926, Humphrey Bogart and his first wife Helen Menken were married there. A family from Massachusetts with the surname Kennedy once lived there on an entire floor. Babe Ruth patronized its bar, while literary giants Edmund Wilson and Mary McCarthy lived there.
By 1958, the hotel was sold to Herbert Weissberg and under his ownership, the hotel became noted for its bohemian appeal. Musical performers ranging from Bob Dylan to Bob Marley to Debbie Harry to David Bowie were among those who graced the halls. Things went along until the 1990s when tensions within the Weissberger family eventually led to the sale of the hotel to Ian Schrager. Schrager overhauled the hotel, giving it a facelift, upgrading its decor and generally bringing it into the 21st Century.
Director Douglas Keeve (who made the wonderful portrait of Isaac Mizrahi entitled Unzipped) was fortunately asked by a local resident of the Gramercy Park area to document the changes to the building, inside and out. Thus was born Hotel Gramercy Park, his delightful, quintiessentially New York film.
Lately, I've been very nostalgic for the Manhattan in which I lived and this movie helped me capture a small part of a time that has passed and an era which is gone. Keeve was fortunate to be granted access to the surviving members of the Weissberg family, several longtime residents of the hotel (who refused to vacate during its renovations), and to Ian Schrager.
What emerges is a portrait that is heartbreakingly sad (there was much tragedy in the Weissberg family, from the overdose of one scion to the suicide of Herbert's son David, who had battled drug addiction in the past), eccentic (mostly the oddball residents of the hotel, including Tony-nominated lyricist Ira Gasman whose lovely tune "Everything I Want Is in Manhattan" becomes almost his defiant anthem), and determined (Schrager and his vision of what the hotel should be, replete with art work from his private collection as well as provided by Julian Schnabel). The various strands of the tale wend together to create an unforgettable movie.
The upshot is that a quaint downtrodden hotel with history was given a multi-million dollar face lift and has emerged as a trendy spot. It's the way of life in Manhattan, where history is paved over to be forgotten, except by filmmakers like Douglas Keeve, who function like archeologists, digging out those wonderful historic gems.
Rating: B+
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
December 8: R.I.P. "As the World Turns"
Well the idiots at TeleNext, the subsidiary of Procter & Gamble, have done it. Along with the cowardly executives at CBS (and I even went to college with one of them, the vice president who predicted this over the summer and to whom I say "SHAME!"). They have cancelled the now longest-running daytime drama "As the World Turns" today. Happy F'ing Christmas!
Can you tell I'm a little upset (and I haven't even watched the show that much recently), but it remained one of my favorites. My grandmother watched this show along with "Guiding Light" and many others that had already gone off the air. I have flitted around and catch what I can -- hell, I ordered Soapnet when it still was pursuing its original mission of airing soap operas.
Okay, I get that the shows are somewhat expensive, but if one examines the history of the genre and sees how much money they have generated in the past -- how the news divisions benefited; how primetime shows benefited from the cash flow, my question is, couldn't you put a little back into the genre? Stand by them while they are undergoing a bit of an upheaval. Cancelling "Guiding Light" after 57 years and now "As the World Turns" after 54 says something. Since one of the executives who was responsible for this is at 52 years old, maybe we should cancel her contract because she's old and out of touch?
There are so many problems with the genre that I can see the whole thing disappearing in a couple of years. Yes, several enterprising actors are turning to the Internet and creating their own shows and perhaps that will be the wave of the future, but I maintain there is still a place for these "stories" if they are well told. Part of the problem is that the genre devours itself and rewards those who are lousy by passing them around. Imagine if a sport allowed that. A baseball pitcher who can't throw any more gets traded from the Yankees to the Red Sox to the White Sox. Would that even happen? Or a basketball player who is going blind goes from the Nicks to the Celtics to the Jazz? Nope. Not going to happen. But lousy writers go from one show to another -- or worse, stay with one soap and drive it into the ground. Nowadays, fan reactions mean nothing to the executives and to the producers and writers. And DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE NIELSEN RATINGS!
I've said this one hundred times before, even I'm getting sick of saying it, but the fact of the matter is that these all-important ratings do not take into account the various ways in which people now watch these shows. Nielsen ratings do not measure DVRs or TiVo. They don't count when someone goes to a network's website and watches an episode.
And when people compare today to the heady days of the 1980s, I want to scream. Yes, I grant you that you had terrific writers working then, especially the late Doug Marland who elevated "As the World Turns" to must-watch television with his stories -- a man who recognized telling tales that involved multiple generations. But you also had fewer choices as far as channels to watch. Cable television was still in its infancy and hadn't made the in-roads it had. Viewers were still pretty much watching the big three (or four, if you counted Fox) networks. Nowadays, there's so much competition for eyeballs.
I'm saddened too for the actors in the city of New York. After "As the World Turns" goes off the air, there will only be one soap left in Manhattan -- "One Life to Live" -- and there have already been rumblings that it is on the chopping block. New York has gotten to be an expensive place to live, yes, but the talent pool there is extraordinary and I'm sick and tired of people not giving the actors who appear on daytime their due. Yes, there are the occasional "hair models" (as Nelson Branco of TV Guide Canada has dubbed them) but there are also many stage trained performers who appear on these shows -- actors whose names may not mean much to people outside of a small group but people like Scott Holmes, Ilene Kristen, Larry Bryggman, Kathleen Widdoes, Ellen Parker, and so on. Actor's actors.
Clearly the networks are in panic. Look at how NBC has virtually surrendered their primetime lineup to the competition with the boneheaded move to put Jay Leno on every night at 10pm. Oprah Winfrey has announced she's leaving daytime in 2011. Daily talk shows fail fairly regularly (Bonnie Hunt being the latest victim). Game shows are back in vogue. Yeah, I want to sit around and watch something I never watched when I was younger. "Price Is Right"? Who cares? "Password"? That died when Allen Ludden did. "Let's Make a Deal"? Sure. I want my daytime dramas back.
I know I'm just venting but I've met people who worked in this industry and it really pains me to see them treated so poorly by short-sighted executives. It won't change anything. But I do know that I will not be buying any more Procter & Gamble products. It's won't save the show or bring it back but it will at least bring me some slight satisfaction.
Can you tell I'm a little upset (and I haven't even watched the show that much recently), but it remained one of my favorites. My grandmother watched this show along with "Guiding Light" and many others that had already gone off the air. I have flitted around and catch what I can -- hell, I ordered Soapnet when it still was pursuing its original mission of airing soap operas.
Okay, I get that the shows are somewhat expensive, but if one examines the history of the genre and sees how much money they have generated in the past -- how the news divisions benefited; how primetime shows benefited from the cash flow, my question is, couldn't you put a little back into the genre? Stand by them while they are undergoing a bit of an upheaval. Cancelling "Guiding Light" after 57 years and now "As the World Turns" after 54 says something. Since one of the executives who was responsible for this is at 52 years old, maybe we should cancel her contract because she's old and out of touch?
There are so many problems with the genre that I can see the whole thing disappearing in a couple of years. Yes, several enterprising actors are turning to the Internet and creating their own shows and perhaps that will be the wave of the future, but I maintain there is still a place for these "stories" if they are well told. Part of the problem is that the genre devours itself and rewards those who are lousy by passing them around. Imagine if a sport allowed that. A baseball pitcher who can't throw any more gets traded from the Yankees to the Red Sox to the White Sox. Would that even happen? Or a basketball player who is going blind goes from the Nicks to the Celtics to the Jazz? Nope. Not going to happen. But lousy writers go from one show to another -- or worse, stay with one soap and drive it into the ground. Nowadays, fan reactions mean nothing to the executives and to the producers and writers. And DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE NIELSEN RATINGS!
I've said this one hundred times before, even I'm getting sick of saying it, but the fact of the matter is that these all-important ratings do not take into account the various ways in which people now watch these shows. Nielsen ratings do not measure DVRs or TiVo. They don't count when someone goes to a network's website and watches an episode.
And when people compare today to the heady days of the 1980s, I want to scream. Yes, I grant you that you had terrific writers working then, especially the late Doug Marland who elevated "As the World Turns" to must-watch television with his stories -- a man who recognized telling tales that involved multiple generations. But you also had fewer choices as far as channels to watch. Cable television was still in its infancy and hadn't made the in-roads it had. Viewers were still pretty much watching the big three (or four, if you counted Fox) networks. Nowadays, there's so much competition for eyeballs.
I'm saddened too for the actors in the city of New York. After "As the World Turns" goes off the air, there will only be one soap left in Manhattan -- "One Life to Live" -- and there have already been rumblings that it is on the chopping block. New York has gotten to be an expensive place to live, yes, but the talent pool there is extraordinary and I'm sick and tired of people not giving the actors who appear on daytime their due. Yes, there are the occasional "hair models" (as Nelson Branco of TV Guide Canada has dubbed them) but there are also many stage trained performers who appear on these shows -- actors whose names may not mean much to people outside of a small group but people like Scott Holmes, Ilene Kristen, Larry Bryggman, Kathleen Widdoes, Ellen Parker, and so on. Actor's actors.
Clearly the networks are in panic. Look at how NBC has virtually surrendered their primetime lineup to the competition with the boneheaded move to put Jay Leno on every night at 10pm. Oprah Winfrey has announced she's leaving daytime in 2011. Daily talk shows fail fairly regularly (Bonnie Hunt being the latest victim). Game shows are back in vogue. Yeah, I want to sit around and watch something I never watched when I was younger. "Price Is Right"? Who cares? "Password"? That died when Allen Ludden did. "Let's Make a Deal"? Sure. I want my daytime dramas back.
I know I'm just venting but I've met people who worked in this industry and it really pains me to see them treated so poorly by short-sighted executives. It won't change anything. But I do know that I will not be buying any more Procter & Gamble products. It's won't save the show or bring it back but it will at least bring me some slight satisfaction.
Tuesday: December 8
Oftentimes I'm asked which actors and actresses I enjoy watching in movies. When I answer, most people have no idea about whom I'm speaking because I tend to shy away from the usual suspects and my choices such as Roman Duris, Louis Garrel, Vincent Cassel, Monica Belluci, Romola Garai, etc. usually draw blank stares. Among American performers who fall into this category is Gabriel Macht. I first became aware of him after his guest appearance on "Sex and the City" but I really became a fan of his in earnest in 2001 after seeing him in both American Outlaws and Behind Enemy Lines. Over the next several years, I watched him in supporting roles in great movies (The Good Shepherd), good movies (A Love Song for Bobby Long) and middling ones (The Recruit). He was the best thing in the romantic comedy Because I Said So (which depending on one's point of view is either a good thing or not). So when I read that he finally had landed a leading role in a movie I was excited. Then The Spirit opened, got terrible reviews, and bombed big time at the box office. Still, it was directed by Frank Miller and I had admired his contributions to Sin City, so I kept thinking "how bad could this movie be?" Besides, a lot of the time, I find myself enamored of a movie that other critics have disliked.
So I rented the DVD of The Spirit, popped it in and ... As the film opened, I was admiring of the decor and the look of the movie. But then, well, it became clear that Frank Miller without Robert Rodriguez was like oil without vinegar in a salad dressing.
In the comics created by Will Eisner, the character of Denny Colt becomes the Spirit after being shot and left in a kind of limbo -- not really dead, but not really alive either. The original ran for a dozen years between 1940 and 1952 but in 2007, DC Comics resurrected the character and someone must have hit on the idea that making a movie would be a good thing. Trouble is that Miller's screenplay doesn't exactly contemporize the character or his story. Instead, Miller treats the material like a 1940s melodrama cum film noir. As a director, he's clearly lacking the skill set to deal with actors, while as a visual artist, he crafts some attractive-looking sequences.
The performers are all at sea, performing as if different films. Macht, who can be charming and heroic, comes across as merely dull. Samuel L. Jackson overplays and hams it up as the villain known as the Octopuss -- and his campy performance makes some of the TV actors from the old "Batman" show look as if they were doing Shakespeare. The femme fatales, including Eva Mendes, Scarlett Johansson, and Jamie King, are all defeated by the material.
I went into watching this movie with the expectations that I would find something in it that I could appreciate, but I was wrong. The movie isn't the worst I've ever seen, but it is pretty close.
Rating: D-
So I rented the DVD of The Spirit, popped it in and ... As the film opened, I was admiring of the decor and the look of the movie. But then, well, it became clear that Frank Miller without Robert Rodriguez was like oil without vinegar in a salad dressing.
In the comics created by Will Eisner, the character of Denny Colt becomes the Spirit after being shot and left in a kind of limbo -- not really dead, but not really alive either. The original ran for a dozen years between 1940 and 1952 but in 2007, DC Comics resurrected the character and someone must have hit on the idea that making a movie would be a good thing. Trouble is that Miller's screenplay doesn't exactly contemporize the character or his story. Instead, Miller treats the material like a 1940s melodrama cum film noir. As a director, he's clearly lacking the skill set to deal with actors, while as a visual artist, he crafts some attractive-looking sequences.
The performers are all at sea, performing as if different films. Macht, who can be charming and heroic, comes across as merely dull. Samuel L. Jackson overplays and hams it up as the villain known as the Octopuss -- and his campy performance makes some of the TV actors from the old "Batman" show look as if they were doing Shakespeare. The femme fatales, including Eva Mendes, Scarlett Johansson, and Jamie King, are all defeated by the material.
I went into watching this movie with the expectations that I would find something in it that I could appreciate, but I was wrong. The movie isn't the worst I've ever seen, but it is pretty close.
Rating: D-
Sunday, December 6, 2009
December 7: Musical Monday
Back in June, I was in Manhattan, just after the Tony Awards, and managed to score a great seat to the award-winning revival of Hair. The show, which is admittedly more of a revue than an actual book musical, was performed by a cast with zeal and an infectious spirit that I don't think anyone left the theater except in a jolly good mood. I had seen the 1979 Milos Forman-directed film when it first was released (and rather enjoyed it then), but a later viewing left me cold. Maybe I was just in a mood that day or something because I happened to catch the film again on the MGMHD channel (had no idea this even existed -- when I upgraded, it was among the listings) the other night and was captivated by it.
Screenwriter Michael Weller takes a lot of liberties with the rather skimpy original plot but much of what he concocted makes sense. He also includes homages to the stage show, including the infamous nude scene that closes the first act (now a skinny dip in a pond in Central Park) and an acid trip that on stage sometimes seems twee and perhaps even a tad tedious -- but here is a reflection of Claude's inner feelings.
In the film's story, Claude (John Savage) is from Oklahoma, has just been drafted and heads to New York City for some fun before shipping out. He encounters a group of hippies, led by George Berger (Treat Williams), and he eventually falls into their "tribe" that includes the pregnant Jeannie (Annie Golden), Woof (Don Dacus) and African American Hud (Dorsey Wright). Along the way they cross paths with society girl Sheila (Beverly D'Angelo) who also abandons the tony suburbs and joins the group.
Weller manages to work into the script nearly all of the catchy songs that Galt McDermot and James Rado and Gerome Ragni wrote. Forman uses "Aquarius" to frame the film and from the opening shots in Central Park, one immediately wants to go on this ride of a movie. Twyla Tharp did the choreography and there's some terrific staging involving horses in that opening number that still can cause one to stop and go "how did they accomplish that?" She also does terrific work on the numbers "Black Boys" and "White Boys" which inject humor and touch of silliness to the project (and the scenes involving these numbers include Laurie Beechman, Michael Jeter and Nell Carter -- who all left us too soon -- as well as Charlayne Woodard and Ellen Foley).
Forman is to be commended because he hired actors who could sing (several had stage credits) rather than relying on movie star names with questionable abilities. Williams is a charismatic ringleader (see the "I Got Life" number where he disrupts a staid suburban dinner party) and emerges as the genuine star of the movie. He's matched well, though, by Savage, who takes what might have been a cliche and turns him into a real person. D'Angelo is terrific as the not as uptight as you might expect debutante, while Golden invest her character with heart.
But hands down, the most electrifying moments come from Cheryl Barnes when she sings "Easy To Be Hard" as an anthem full of pain and hurt. The woman has amazing screen presence and a voice that is unbelievable. Every time I hear her or see this sequence, I get goosebumps. Even the time I watched the film and wasn't into it, her scene just touched me immeasurably. She's gone on to pursue a singing career, but I wish someone would have cast her in at least another movie. (I can dream.) This song alone elevates the film to a different level.
The film's ending (which I won't detail for anyone unfamiliar with the material) hits a bull's-eye and catches one short. It makes one angry, sad and respectful without succumbing to pathos.
When Hair was first released in 1979, it wasn't a box-office success, perhaps because film audiences were only open to dramatic fare about Vietnam. The previous year, The Deer Hunter and Coming Home had dominated the Academy Awards and Platoon and Full Metal Jacket were yet to be. Musicals weren't in vogue at the time, despite the yeoman work of Forman and his cast and crew. Over time, some have come to appreciate the film as among the director's better efforts. Now, more than 40 years after the original premiered on stage, and 30 years since the movie opened in theaters, it seems ripe for re-exploring. Try to catch it when it runs on cable or rent or buy the DVD. It's worth it.
Rating: B+
Screenwriter Michael Weller takes a lot of liberties with the rather skimpy original plot but much of what he concocted makes sense. He also includes homages to the stage show, including the infamous nude scene that closes the first act (now a skinny dip in a pond in Central Park) and an acid trip that on stage sometimes seems twee and perhaps even a tad tedious -- but here is a reflection of Claude's inner feelings.
In the film's story, Claude (John Savage) is from Oklahoma, has just been drafted and heads to New York City for some fun before shipping out. He encounters a group of hippies, led by George Berger (Treat Williams), and he eventually falls into their "tribe" that includes the pregnant Jeannie (Annie Golden), Woof (Don Dacus) and African American Hud (Dorsey Wright). Along the way they cross paths with society girl Sheila (Beverly D'Angelo) who also abandons the tony suburbs and joins the group.
Weller manages to work into the script nearly all of the catchy songs that Galt McDermot and James Rado and Gerome Ragni wrote. Forman uses "Aquarius" to frame the film and from the opening shots in Central Park, one immediately wants to go on this ride of a movie. Twyla Tharp did the choreography and there's some terrific staging involving horses in that opening number that still can cause one to stop and go "how did they accomplish that?" She also does terrific work on the numbers "Black Boys" and "White Boys" which inject humor and touch of silliness to the project (and the scenes involving these numbers include Laurie Beechman, Michael Jeter and Nell Carter -- who all left us too soon -- as well as Charlayne Woodard and Ellen Foley).
Forman is to be commended because he hired actors who could sing (several had stage credits) rather than relying on movie star names with questionable abilities. Williams is a charismatic ringleader (see the "I Got Life" number where he disrupts a staid suburban dinner party) and emerges as the genuine star of the movie. He's matched well, though, by Savage, who takes what might have been a cliche and turns him into a real person. D'Angelo is terrific as the not as uptight as you might expect debutante, while Golden invest her character with heart.
But hands down, the most electrifying moments come from Cheryl Barnes when she sings "Easy To Be Hard" as an anthem full of pain and hurt. The woman has amazing screen presence and a voice that is unbelievable. Every time I hear her or see this sequence, I get goosebumps. Even the time I watched the film and wasn't into it, her scene just touched me immeasurably. She's gone on to pursue a singing career, but I wish someone would have cast her in at least another movie. (I can dream.) This song alone elevates the film to a different level.
The film's ending (which I won't detail for anyone unfamiliar with the material) hits a bull's-eye and catches one short. It makes one angry, sad and respectful without succumbing to pathos.
When Hair was first released in 1979, it wasn't a box-office success, perhaps because film audiences were only open to dramatic fare about Vietnam. The previous year, The Deer Hunter and Coming Home had dominated the Academy Awards and Platoon and Full Metal Jacket were yet to be. Musicals weren't in vogue at the time, despite the yeoman work of Forman and his cast and crew. Over time, some have come to appreciate the film as among the director's better efforts. Now, more than 40 years after the original premiered on stage, and 30 years since the movie opened in theaters, it seems ripe for re-exploring. Try to catch it when it runs on cable or rent or buy the DVD. It's worth it.
Rating: B+
December 6: Golden Oldie
One of my all-time favorite actresses is Bette Davis. I cannot really articulate why, but I find her to be an intriguing and fascinating screen presence. Perhaps because she was willing to take risks and play characters that might be unlikable. Perhaps because she was more versatile than many realize. Perhaps because she just happened to be a damned good actress. I got to work with the producers of one of her TV-movies as they were preparing the opening credits and wanted various photographs of her through the years. And then, I actually got to meet the woman herself -- which remains a very special moment in my life.
So, thanks to the good folks at Green Cine, I scored a copy of Old Acquaintance, a woman's picture from 1943. I had seen the movie a long time ago but I wanted to watch it again.
Old Acquaintance is an adaptation of a play by John Van Druten (who received co-writing credit with Lenore Coffee on the screenplay) and centers on the life-long friendship between Katherine 'Kit' Marlowe (Davis) and Mildred 'Millie' Watson Drake (Miriam Hopkins). When the film opens, it's 1924 and Kit Marlowe has just published her first novel. Millie is to host her visit and has everything all planned out -- and, of course, nothing goes as expected. It becomes clear that Millie is spoiled, petulant and somewhat jealous of Kit's success, while Kit envies Millie's domestic life with her husband Preston (John Loder). Millie shows Kit a manuscript for a novel that she has written and before you know it, the years pass and Mrs. Drake has become a successful writer of pulp romances. Meanwhile, Kit's work comes slowly, wins awards, but sells few copies.
We skip ahead and Kit is trying her hand at playwriting while Millie is spending money wildly, neglecting her daughter and her husband. Preston makes it clear that he cares for Kit who declines his offer so as not to offend her friend.
Another jump in time and the U.S.A. has entered World War II. Kit has acquired a younger lover (Gig Young) who helps her arrange a meeting between Preston (now a major in the army) and his now-grown daughter (Dolores Moran).
Over the course of the film, marriages break up, lovers come and go, but the one constant is the friendship between the two women. Of course, one of the themes of the film is that a woman can have a career or a family but not both. (Something that Davis herself struggled with off-screen.)
Hopkins has the flashier role and her histrionics are mildly amusing. The character is meant to be somewhat annoying and the actress perfectly captures that. Davis has the more subdued role and she excels in the part. Her role allows her to play the martyr and suffer nobly. Much has been written about the women's real-life dislike of one another and there's a famous scene where Davis literally shakes Hopkins in an effort to knock sense into her. It's capped by a clipped and amusing "Sorry!" But while that may be the sequence everyone knows, the overall movie is terrific.
The supporting cast is fine. Young, in one of his first roles, acquits himself well. Moran is fine while character players Anne Revere (as a bitchy journalist) and Esther Dale (as Davis' maid) do sterling work.
The DVD transfer is pristine, maintaining the terrific black and white photography. The extras include commentary by director Vincent Sherman and Davis biographer Boze Hadleigh, a Warner Bros. cartoon, a short Stars on Horseback, and a featurette Old Acquaintance: A Classic Woman's Picture, which has commentary by Jeanine Basinger, Hadleigh, and others.
The movie was remade in 1981 by director George Cukor as Rich and Famous, and at the time of this writing Cameron Diaz is attempting to do a contemporary spin on the material.
Rating: B+
So, thanks to the good folks at Green Cine, I scored a copy of Old Acquaintance, a woman's picture from 1943. I had seen the movie a long time ago but I wanted to watch it again.
Old Acquaintance is an adaptation of a play by John Van Druten (who received co-writing credit with Lenore Coffee on the screenplay) and centers on the life-long friendship between Katherine 'Kit' Marlowe (Davis) and Mildred 'Millie' Watson Drake (Miriam Hopkins). When the film opens, it's 1924 and Kit Marlowe has just published her first novel. Millie is to host her visit and has everything all planned out -- and, of course, nothing goes as expected. It becomes clear that Millie is spoiled, petulant and somewhat jealous of Kit's success, while Kit envies Millie's domestic life with her husband Preston (John Loder). Millie shows Kit a manuscript for a novel that she has written and before you know it, the years pass and Mrs. Drake has become a successful writer of pulp romances. Meanwhile, Kit's work comes slowly, wins awards, but sells few copies.
We skip ahead and Kit is trying her hand at playwriting while Millie is spending money wildly, neglecting her daughter and her husband. Preston makes it clear that he cares for Kit who declines his offer so as not to offend her friend.
Another jump in time and the U.S.A. has entered World War II. Kit has acquired a younger lover (Gig Young) who helps her arrange a meeting between Preston (now a major in the army) and his now-grown daughter (Dolores Moran).
Over the course of the film, marriages break up, lovers come and go, but the one constant is the friendship between the two women. Of course, one of the themes of the film is that a woman can have a career or a family but not both. (Something that Davis herself struggled with off-screen.)
Hopkins has the flashier role and her histrionics are mildly amusing. The character is meant to be somewhat annoying and the actress perfectly captures that. Davis has the more subdued role and she excels in the part. Her role allows her to play the martyr and suffer nobly. Much has been written about the women's real-life dislike of one another and there's a famous scene where Davis literally shakes Hopkins in an effort to knock sense into her. It's capped by a clipped and amusing "Sorry!" But while that may be the sequence everyone knows, the overall movie is terrific.
The supporting cast is fine. Young, in one of his first roles, acquits himself well. Moran is fine while character players Anne Revere (as a bitchy journalist) and Esther Dale (as Davis' maid) do sterling work.
The DVD transfer is pristine, maintaining the terrific black and white photography. The extras include commentary by director Vincent Sherman and Davis biographer Boze Hadleigh, a Warner Bros. cartoon, a short Stars on Horseback, and a featurette Old Acquaintance: A Classic Woman's Picture, which has commentary by Jeanine Basinger, Hadleigh, and others.
The movie was remade in 1981 by director George Cukor as Rich and Famous, and at the time of this writing Cameron Diaz is attempting to do a contemporary spin on the material.
Rating: B+
Saturday, December 5, 2009
December 5: Documentaries: TOOTS, YOU MUST BE THIS TALL, and CHRIS & DON
I like to mix up my viewing between various types of films. Sometimes I get on a kick and check out a few documentaries at a time, as I did recently.
When I covered most film festivals, there were times I'd get frustrated because several films would be playing at the same time that I wanted to check out -- while other times I was scrambling to find something -- anything -- to see. Such was the case when I covered Tribeca a couple of years ago and the documentary Toots was playing. I had an interest in this film for a couple of reasons. I'm fascinated by the nightlife of the 1940s and 50s and had enjoyed reading books about that period (including James Gavin's INTIMATE NIGHTS) and I recall stories of Shor and his legendary nightspot from my youth. His was a "saloon" that attracted celebrities ranging from comedian Jackie Gleason to actor John Wayne to newsman Mike Wallace. This film, a portrait crafted from interviews with the man (conducted a couple of years before his death in 1977) intercut with stock footage and fresh reminiscences by Wallace, author Pete Hamill, baseball player turned sportscaster Joe Garagiola, and others, was directed by Shor's granddaughter Kristi Jacobson.
Unlike some family projects, Jacobson takes a warts-and-all approach to the man. With the benefit of those tapes, we hear Shor tell parts of his life story in his own voice. The interviewees provide additional color and Jacobson doesn't whitewash her grandfather's faults and failings. What emerges is a wonderful portrait of a lost era, when the common man could mingle with the celebrity. Although it took me a couple of years to finally see the movie, I was very glad I had and would highly recommend it.
Rating: A -
Having grown up in Rhode Island, I spent some of my time at the amusement parks in the state. When I was a kid, there were two main ones: Crescent Park and Rocky Point. Unfortunately, both have gone the way of the dinosaur. As far as I know, no one has made a film about Crescent Park, but David Bettencourt, in his feature directorial debut, has documented the story of its rival in You Must Be This Tall: The Story of Rocky Point. Now, honestly, I'm not sure just how widespread an interest there might be for this film, beyond Rhode Islanders (or former Rhode Islanders) and aficianados of theme parks, but I can say that I was immediately transported back to my childhood. Watching this well-made film awakened long dormant memories. The movie also taught me about the history of the place. And I actually knew one of the interviewees, a former employee of Rocky Point, who had been a couple of years ahead of me in high school. This is a specialized movie but one that was close to my heart. If you enjoy amusement parks or New England history, it's worth a look.
Rating: B
The last of the documentaries I recently watched was Chris & Don. A Love Story. A couple of years ago, I was working with a regarded writer who had some correspondence from Don Bachardy. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I could not place it. I was told he was Christopher Isherwood's lover and that he was also an artist of some repute. So when I learned that someone had documented the couple's relationship, I figured I might check it out and hopefully learn something. Of course, I knew of Isherwood; he was the author of the THE BERLIN STORIES which were the basis for the play I Am a Camera and later the musical Cabaret (both of which were filmed). Watching this documentary, directed by Tina Mascara and Guido Santi, I had some mixed feelings.
Isherwood was an established writer who had settled in the United States in 1939 (becoming a citizen in 1946). In the early 1950s, while living in Southern California, he made the acquaintance of young Don Bachardy. With almost a 30-year gap between them, the pair embarked on a love affair that lasted -- not without its bumps -- until Isherwood's death in January 1986. A cynic might claim that Bachardy has wrapped himself in the mantle of the "Widow Isherwood". While he is a portaitist of some regard, he main claim to fame is that he was Isherwood's lover. It's clear that the writer wielded a lot of influence over the painter -- as some have pointed out, Bachardy adopted the clipped intonations of Isherwood and despite being raised in Southern California, he sounds like he hails from Great Britain. But there are some red flags about this relationship.
First of all, there's the age gap. Yes, from photographs and home movies of the period, Bachardy was clearly a handsome youth. But the fact that Isherwood enjoyed a liaison with Bachardy's older brother Ted, who later suffered a breakdown, underwent shock therapy and has battled mental illness is presented in an offhand manner. It raises some questions that are not answered or addressed: Did Isherwood romance the older boy to get to the youth? Or did he transfer his regard for the older boy to the younger after the older became ill? Or was it just happenstance?
Due to Ted Bachardy's illness, we may never know.
In the 1950s, the relationship raised eyebrows, as much for the age difference as for the transparency of it. Neither man felt the need to "pass" as heterosexual and they went everywhere together as a couple. It was Isherwood who encouraged the youth to pursue art, resulting in Bachardy's career as a portrait painter.
We hear snippets of Isherwood's thoughts read from his diaries by actor Michael York (who played the Isherwood character in the film Cabaret) and Bachardy speaks of the times when the couple pursued other lovers -- including a time when it appeared they might leave one another. Clearly, this is an unconventional love story, but one that I felt wasn't completely explored. We get a mostly one-sided view and I was left wanting something more.
Rating: B-
When I covered most film festivals, there were times I'd get frustrated because several films would be playing at the same time that I wanted to check out -- while other times I was scrambling to find something -- anything -- to see. Such was the case when I covered Tribeca a couple of years ago and the documentary Toots was playing. I had an interest in this film for a couple of reasons. I'm fascinated by the nightlife of the 1940s and 50s and had enjoyed reading books about that period (including James Gavin's INTIMATE NIGHTS) and I recall stories of Shor and his legendary nightspot from my youth. His was a "saloon" that attracted celebrities ranging from comedian Jackie Gleason to actor John Wayne to newsman Mike Wallace. This film, a portrait crafted from interviews with the man (conducted a couple of years before his death in 1977) intercut with stock footage and fresh reminiscences by Wallace, author Pete Hamill, baseball player turned sportscaster Joe Garagiola, and others, was directed by Shor's granddaughter Kristi Jacobson.
Unlike some family projects, Jacobson takes a warts-and-all approach to the man. With the benefit of those tapes, we hear Shor tell parts of his life story in his own voice. The interviewees provide additional color and Jacobson doesn't whitewash her grandfather's faults and failings. What emerges is a wonderful portrait of a lost era, when the common man could mingle with the celebrity. Although it took me a couple of years to finally see the movie, I was very glad I had and would highly recommend it.
Rating: A -
Having grown up in Rhode Island, I spent some of my time at the amusement parks in the state. When I was a kid, there were two main ones: Crescent Park and Rocky Point. Unfortunately, both have gone the way of the dinosaur. As far as I know, no one has made a film about Crescent Park, but David Bettencourt, in his feature directorial debut, has documented the story of its rival in You Must Be This Tall: The Story of Rocky Point. Now, honestly, I'm not sure just how widespread an interest there might be for this film, beyond Rhode Islanders (or former Rhode Islanders) and aficianados of theme parks, but I can say that I was immediately transported back to my childhood. Watching this well-made film awakened long dormant memories. The movie also taught me about the history of the place. And I actually knew one of the interviewees, a former employee of Rocky Point, who had been a couple of years ahead of me in high school. This is a specialized movie but one that was close to my heart. If you enjoy amusement parks or New England history, it's worth a look.
Rating: B
The last of the documentaries I recently watched was Chris & Don. A Love Story. A couple of years ago, I was working with a regarded writer who had some correspondence from Don Bachardy. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I could not place it. I was told he was Christopher Isherwood's lover and that he was also an artist of some repute. So when I learned that someone had documented the couple's relationship, I figured I might check it out and hopefully learn something. Of course, I knew of Isherwood; he was the author of the THE BERLIN STORIES which were the basis for the play I Am a Camera and later the musical Cabaret (both of which were filmed). Watching this documentary, directed by Tina Mascara and Guido Santi, I had some mixed feelings.
Isherwood was an established writer who had settled in the United States in 1939 (becoming a citizen in 1946). In the early 1950s, while living in Southern California, he made the acquaintance of young Don Bachardy. With almost a 30-year gap between them, the pair embarked on a love affair that lasted -- not without its bumps -- until Isherwood's death in January 1986. A cynic might claim that Bachardy has wrapped himself in the mantle of the "Widow Isherwood". While he is a portaitist of some regard, he main claim to fame is that he was Isherwood's lover. It's clear that the writer wielded a lot of influence over the painter -- as some have pointed out, Bachardy adopted the clipped intonations of Isherwood and despite being raised in Southern California, he sounds like he hails from Great Britain. But there are some red flags about this relationship.
First of all, there's the age gap. Yes, from photographs and home movies of the period, Bachardy was clearly a handsome youth. But the fact that Isherwood enjoyed a liaison with Bachardy's older brother Ted, who later suffered a breakdown, underwent shock therapy and has battled mental illness is presented in an offhand manner. It raises some questions that are not answered or addressed: Did Isherwood romance the older boy to get to the youth? Or did he transfer his regard for the older boy to the younger after the older became ill? Or was it just happenstance?
Due to Ted Bachardy's illness, we may never know.
In the 1950s, the relationship raised eyebrows, as much for the age difference as for the transparency of it. Neither man felt the need to "pass" as heterosexual and they went everywhere together as a couple. It was Isherwood who encouraged the youth to pursue art, resulting in Bachardy's career as a portrait painter.
We hear snippets of Isherwood's thoughts read from his diaries by actor Michael York (who played the Isherwood character in the film Cabaret) and Bachardy speaks of the times when the couple pursued other lovers -- including a time when it appeared they might leave one another. Clearly, this is an unconventional love story, but one that I felt wasn't completely explored. We get a mostly one-sided view and I was left wanting something more.
Rating: B-
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