"Dance, Girl Dance"

Stop the presses!!! I just saw a film in which Ralph Bellamy actually got the girl. And he got this girl. I'm still in shock.

Maureen can stop your heart. She contains an intoxicating fire and strength. Beautiful, funny and fierce. Even in mediocre pirate movies Maureen holds her own against the bad guys. This is not a woman who gets left behind. and she proved it with some stellar roles into the '50s. Leaving aside "Miracle on 34th St", she is dazzling in "Mr Hobbs Takes a Vacation" and my longtime favorite, "The Parent Trap.

Ralph is easy to miss on the poster  

"Dance, Girl Dance" is an oddly modern title for a strange little movie. Maureen's innocent Judy starts out kind of shy and dreamy, but as a young aspiring ballerina pitted against crass burlesque queen Lucile Ball, well, Lucy doesn't stand a chance. There is an actual cat fight. Yes, you heard me right. Cat fight. On a stage. In fancy costumes. Feathers fly.

They fight over this guy I've never heard of, Louis Hayward. But he's
billed with Maureen, over Lucille, even though she has way more screen time. Hayward's Jimmy isn't around much, but he takes this rich, drunk playboy wastrel stumbling out of of a glamorous bit '30s froth, and gives him a dark, broody edge. There is a missing back story between Jimmy and his rather charmless ex-wife, which makes the end more than a little unusual.

 As a co-star Hayward is as handsome a macguffin as one could wish for, but when I wondered why he wasn't more famous, I admitted he lacked that certain spark that makes a good leading man. Although the studios did give him quite a decent number to fail in. Louis Hayward did have some good friends though. Noel Coward among then, according to Noel. Which makes having also been Ida Lupino's husband extremely practical in a beardy sort of way.

Even though it's actually not the plot, it's the O'Hara, Bellamy, Hayward triangle that intrigues me the most, Lucille must be given her fair due. Can I assume that even today's youth have at least heard of Lucy? If I am permitted to assume that the whole world loves "I Love Lucy" —as they most certainly should—I still have to remind myself that most people don't even know she did pretty well for herself as a movie star before TV. I probably watched every episode of every one of her TV shows before I caught her early studio days. Often extremely glamorous and regularly typecast as the coarse girl on the make for Mr. Moola. (Now I am thinking that I need to make a list of movie stars who made cheap and trashy birds really sing. Barbara Stanwyck is on top, no matter what you think of Bette or Joan.) Look at Lucy sitting next to poor virtuous—and starving—Maureen. She waltzes in so covered in fur that you can't tell where her ugly stole ends and her ugly little dog begins. Now see Lucy's dress in her Tiger Lily White number. You can only imagine, but I can tell you I've never seen anyone open their legs quite that far when kicking. She's raunchy perfection. And Lily nee Bubbles means well when she gets her friend a job in the show, even if Judy's "fancy" dancing is just to provoke the crowd too razz her and beg for more Lily.

And what of poor Mr Bellamy? Such a decent fellow! This guy is so good-natured that he doesn't even hold a grudge when Cary Grant steals Irene Dunne "The Awful Truth" Then takes Rosalind Russell  in "His Girl Friday". Here he spends most of the movie chasing Maureen—and really truly looking like a great catch—but of course Judy keeps flicking him aside, unaware that Steve Adams holds the power to help her be the great ballerina she yearns to be. When Judy finally figures it out she tearfully collapses into his arms. The movie ends on them kissing of course, but she's really only just met him. Steve wins, and he should. But the plot really throws you a red herring with the big fight over Jimmy.

It seems likely that the lack of the traditional girl-gets-boy happy ending can be credited to the director. I'm quite embarrassed to admit that I'd never heard of Dorothy Arzner before now. (I should go check my copy of The Celluloid Closet) Her bio on IMBD is truly astonishing. Arzner directed Clara Bow in a picture that both made Fredric March a star (if you've never seen "The Best Years of Our Lives" hop to it!) and created the first boom mike, which, as much as I like Mr. March is a contribution to film making of unfathomable significance. Then Arzner directed our beloved Katherine Hepburn with a serious clash of wills and prevailed—that may have been the last time Hepburn let anyone boss her around. Arzner was close friends with Joan Crawford, dressed as a man, and can claim Frances Ford Coppola as a student during her long tenure at UCLA.

Today on TMC

Two in a row about women who slowly discover their husbands are evil.  I can think of at least three in that category off hand, but these two are completly new to me.  Undercurrent. Starring Kate Hepburn and Robert Taylor, and The Two Mrs. Carrolls. Starring Barbara Stanwyck and Humphrey Bogart. Both are the most unlikely of films, with truly bizarre casting.  If you had told me that I would be watching Humphrey Bogart playing an artist in London who is trying to poison hs second wife, played by Barbara Stanwyck I just never would have believed you. Likewise Kate all skittish and insecure as wife of Robert Taylor. 

When I stumble on to either Barbara, Humphrey or Kate, it is only a matter of time to say the name of the movie. But these to really threw me. Completely under the radar. As talented as an actor may be, not all combinations will work.

Check these two out.  And TMC played a ton of Vivien movies last week. I taped The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone just for her outfits.  I wonder how many Warren Beaty fans have seen that movie. Come to think of it, Kate did something similar set in Venice. Hold on and I'll remember the name of  it.

Please forgive typos.  The keyboard on my iPad hates me.

All My Thank Yous

Hey Amy, what happens if you bend over?

And I want to thank everyone who made it possible for me to get up here and thank everyone who made it possible for me to get up here and thank everyone who made it possible for me to thank everyone ... except the ones I forgot ...

Honestly, I have no idea why I sat through it. Last night I only caught bits and pieces. I should have left it at that. But this morning I sat down intending to just catch the Fey/Poehler intro, and much to my dismay stuck around for all the stuff I missed. Now I am wondering why I let all that vacuousness suck up so much valuable brain time. What did I learn? Well, a lot of people I think are great were of course "just happy to be nominated." And really you should be. Top five is great, and it is pretty arbitrary from there.

So, leaving aside talent, popularity, who you know, and being in the right place at the right time, let's get down to what really counts. Your fashion choices. Because if you didn't choose your dress yourself, then you chose the stylist who chose your dress, or you chose the publicist who chose your stylist, etc. Either way it come down to you. To your judgement. To the picture of yourself you present to the world. Personally, I think the more flesh you show the more insecure you are. Just relax and be sexy. Don't embarrass yourself by looking like you are trying too hard.

A lovely woman. An unfortunate choice.

I know it isn't fair. The men don't get too wild in the tuxedo variations. How shocking can a purple tie ever be? What if we switched it up one year? What if all the women wore more or less the same suit, and all the men had to parade themselves around trying to outdo each other in sexiness? Let's just close our eyes and imagine that for a while.

What are the clothing categories this year? Well, there is the Not Enough Coverage award—also known as Go Home and Put Some Clothes On. A subcategory of this is the William Ware Theiss Award for costume Most Likely to Malfunction.

Then we have the Mermaid, the Naked and Sparkly, the What Were You Thinking?, the I Know I'm Not Hot and I Just Want to Not Look Ridiculous. And let's not leave out the woman over 40 who knows how to look Elegant. Helen Mirren inspires me every year.

The most eye-catching trend this year would have to be the deep plunge. It is a narrow plunge, not a wide off the shoulder thing. This year's plunge requires a 1/3 to 3/4 view of perfectly rounded neat little orbs. Motionless orbs. Not a lot of jiggle last night, just a lot of skin. The magic of invisible suspension and glue. In this photo Jessica Chastain wears the plunge du jour. It goes all the way down and on the way reveals some unnaturally perky curves.

A steady trend this year went back to the simple strapless—with widely varying results. The trouble with the strapless is that you are either too thin and the dress is wearing you, or you have a little too much flab squeezing out in front of your armpits. (Debra Messing I'm looking at you.)

While you were asleep you forgot I am the arbiter of good taste. Usually I keep a low profile, but the claws come out in awards season. I'm trying to get some photos, but I'm getting very frustrated.

~~~~06.21.13
I had much more to say here, life interrupted.

The Awful, Awful Truth

Today I turned on the TV and there was Ray Milland. He caught me in his grip in an instant. Unfortunately Jane Wyman was with him. That lady is such a buzz-kill. The movie was painful to watch. More on that, but at first I just couldn't get past the dress.

I came in on a scene where Jane is wearing this crazy awful white lace off the shoulder thing that I am at first convinced must be a wedding dress. Then she walks across the room and we see the very fitted trousers exposed by the curtain like opening in the front. There was a particularly tasteless period in Hollywood costume design where most actresses had a turn prancing around in this combination. These stiffly-fitted outfits tended to look uncomfortable, and often had prickly looking metallic accents.

Here it is in "technicolor"

Every lady has to has to have an endless supply of gowns to wear for the informal I'm-not-dressed-to-go-out-but-not-in-my-pajamas look. I could make the case that this dress presents the wearer as an upside-down flower. The flouncy layers of skirt open up like petals to reveal the nectar-loaded stamen for the hungry bee. Additionally there is a huge flower decorating her waist, just in case the bee isn't very bright and needs some extra navigational help. Subliminal sex appeal. It still has look difficult enough to get out of that the illusion of propriety is maintained.

In the '30s the euphemistically called "casual lounging at home" ensemble was a softly flowing unstructured gown required to have lush fur or feathers covering enormous sleeves. Totally impractical for doing anything other than "receiving male callers" in. Much too suggestive, and much to easy to slip out of. 

Now that I've had my say on that we can get back to the movie, unfortunately named "Let's Do it Again". Oh how I wish they hadn't. (What is it with Hollywood and its consistent foible of badly remaking wonderful movies?)

I didn't realize what they'd done to one of my favorite movies until Jane shows up at Ray's stuffy new fiancee's party, and freaks everyone out with a super slutty routine as "his sister." Irene Dunne did a beautifully cringe inducing turn in this role in 'The Awful Truth." (more on that later) This version is devoid of any charm, sparkle, or humour. 

This is Jane's big dance number and she sings a song so lewd that even the dimmest person in the room knows she is singing about fulfilling wanton lust. They really played this scene up in all the publicity for the movie. Jane can sing, and she can follow the choreography, but can she sell it? No way. The only reason the song doesn't fall completely flat is that its so dirty you cant wait to hear  what the next line will be. Oh, and her dress moves a lot. One might think that her zero sex appeal would make others around her sparkle in comparison. Not so. A room with Jane Wyman in it is a sexual vacuum. I've always thought Jane was a dreary little pill, and this pitiful remake of a great movie proves my point. 

Ray Milland is a guy who makes my knees go weak. Naturally he is handsome and charming. A leading man must be. But Ray is debonair—how many people are debonair anymore? There is a sparkle of wit in his eye, a smile ready to sneak out. Ray has charisma. Jane does not.

Jane has something people like, but it eludes me. Jane is prim, serious. You know something awful will happen to her and she will be brave. She's most emphatically not the sex pot in that poster, and she has no feel for comedy. 

In her early career Jane did her time singing and dancing like everyone did. They liked her enough to give her good parts right away. She was a big star for quite a long time, although she's not really a household name anymore. Some people probably know her from Falcon Crest, which I never saw. Trivia geeks might know her as Ronald Reagan's first wife. In the '50s Jane walked stoically through Douglas Sirk's big melodramas, "Magnificent Obsession" and "All that Heaven Allows". Please don't ever make me watch either of those again. At my age I can't afford the frown lines.

 I know I have to see "The Lost Weekend", but its hard to imagine that my low rating of Jane will shift much.

Quotes from Bachelor Aprtment

Rollins, Wayne's Butler: [holding up a diamond bracelet] Er, I found this, sir. 
Wayne Carter: You find the strangest things in a bachelor's apartment. 
Rollins, Wayne's Butler: Do you suppose the lady lost anything else, sir? 
Wayne Carter: Well, if she did, she didn't lose it here.

Fuck Virtue!

Arrrggghh! Val, I caught your Waterloo Bridge today and I'm feeling quite infuriated.

Catamite or Gunsel?

Someone on NPR asked some young actress what her favorite movie is. The one—if you had to pick one—that you could watch over and over for the rest of your life. She chose Wet Hot American Summer. Her explanation intrigued me enough to Netflix it. I do not get it. I am a fan of the genre. The cast is impeccable. But every line is spoken in a flat monotone, with long pauses in between, as if everyone is waiting for their cue. Its charms elude me.

So I asked myself, what is my one movie? There are so many I love and can watch any number of times. His Girl Friday, The Philadelphia Story, Holiday, You Can't Take it With You, Swing Time, To Have and Have Not, Tampopo, Yojimbo, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Long Hot Summer, Double Indemnity, The Lady from Shanghai, just off the top of my head. But if I stop trying to sift through all those movies I love, if I stop everything, and stop thinking at all, there is really only one answer. The one with the quotes tattooed all over my brain. The one they didn't get right until the third try.

Sam Spade: "We didn't exactly believe your story, Miss O'Shaughnessy. We believed your 200 dollars. I mean, you paid us more than if you had been telling us the truth, and enough more to make it all right."

Brigid O'Shaughnessy: "I haven't lived a good life. I've been bad, worse than you could know. 
Sam Spade:"You know, that's good, because if you actually were as innocent as you pretend to be, we'd never get anywhere."

Joel Cairo "Our private conversations have not been such that I am anxious to continue them"


Kasper Gutman:
 "I distrust a man who says "when." If he's got to be careful not to drink too much, it's because he's not to be trusted when he does."


"Talking's something you can't do judiciously, unless you keep in practice."
"Now, sir. We'll talk, if you like. I'll tell you right out, I am a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk."

"...there are other means of persuasion besides killing and threatening to kill."
Sam Spade: That's true. But, there're none of them any good unless the threat of death is behind them. You see what I mean? If you start something, I'll make it a matter of your having to kill me or call it off. 

"I couldn't be fonder of you if you were my own son. But, well, if you lose a son, it's possible to get another. There's only one Maltese Falcon."

Spade:
"Don't be too sure I'm as crooked as I'm supposed to be."

"When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. And it happens we're in the detective business. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's-it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around, bad for every detective everywhere."

"I'll have some rotten nights after I've sent you over, but that'll pass."

Greta and the Barrymores

I want to wear huge fur collars

Stumbled into Greta and Lionel in "Mata Hari " (1931) this morning. Well. We must begin with the clothes. Oh, those clothes and the way Greta wears them. A huge fur collar and cuffs. Enormous. Anyone else would look ridiculous. She does regal as if it's in her bones. She doesn't even have any hair in this movie. She is all face. A face that makes your heart beat faster. Much faster. But I have to say, her acting is way over the top.
The bulk of her film work is from 1931 and earlier. We all know she vanished before her perfect visage would be marred by signs of age. Wise. And perhaps she knew her acting style wouldn't carry over into the forties. Try to imagine Garbo in "His Girl Friday". No. It is too painful. Forgive me for suggesting it. We love her sultry voice, but it is languorous. No long speeches for Garbo. Long takes. The camera is lost in her spell and she takes her time with every thought. But my darling is already outdated in the '30s. Her style is for the time before sound. Everything she feels is there without words. So her acting looks too big.

Next up was "Grand Hotel." This film has become somewhat obscure, but is required viewing for any Garbo fan or lover of old Hollywood, especially pre-code Hollywood. It is summed up nicely here When it comes on I always think I won't watch it. I've already seen it so many times. But the plot is so good. The way these archetypal characters weave into tangled knots sucks you in before you know it. Here Garbo's over acting fits perfectly. She's playing a diva ballerina -- the pampered neurotic star. Perfectly, flawlessly believable. The immortal lines are here, "I want to be alone", "I'm so tired ... ". Brilliant. She clings to the dissolute Baron's (John Barrymore, in make up for the stage) love for her as a precious orchid, a stem so delicate it cannot stand on its own.

Who me? I'm just a stenographer.

The real surprise in "Grand Hotel" is Joan Crawford. A luminous Joan Crawford. With a smile that melts you. She plays a "stenographer" and I use quotation marks because she's the girl who has abandoned virtue quite some time ago, in favor of getting what she wants. And she's not at all coy about it. She shows up in the room of a repulsive, obnoxious rich man, and while she doesn't flirt or flatter him, she doesn't discourage his suggestions that she'll be "nice to him." His delicate use of the word nice is about the only subtle thing in this scene. She comes out of the bathroom in a robe wrapped loosely enough to make sure the audience knows she's got nothing else on. A modern audience doesn't think anything of it, but if they tried to make Gand Hotel after the Hays Code her character would have had to be utterly pure, or dead by the end of the movie.  Her character's frank, and crisp cynicism is a lovely counterpoint to her still pliable charm. In '31 Joan was already 27, but she looks 20. Soft, lithe, malleable. No hard edges. She wears the slim flat-chested style of the time with an elegance that looks effortless. One dress carries her through the entire film--only two days-- and she wears the most mesmerizing cuffs. Almost the length of her forearm, white, sheer with a large ruffle on the outside that never looks too stiff or too floppy.

So luminous and innocent

Joan was in an astonishing number of films prior to 1940, but hardly any of them are in circulation. The only two early ones that she is known for are this and "The Women". Ironically they are both star laden ensemble casts where she did not receive top billing. But she did get to play a husband stealing tramp in "The Women" and she's still darn cute.

But Joan is much better known for the later '40s roles. The don't-fuck-with-me Joan. That silky, intoxicating smile is gone. If you are a drag queen you are this Joan. You own those famously forties shoulder pads. Your hair doesn't float anymore. It is architecture, and it's staying put. Now your lips are fixed too. Fuller than '30s lips and the corners go down. You could be covered in the fluffiest peignoir and those lips would still say don't fuck with me.

Scary Joan

And then There is John Barrymore. He was such a huge star of stage and screen, bigger than Greta, bigger than anyone today. But he was on his way out by '31. If you want to know why watch his brutal characterization of himself in "Dinner at Eight". His brother Lionel is a bigger legend today. I say legend and yet I'm quite sure he's not a household name. Who is anymore? Whose legacy from the Golden Years still holds? Liz Taylor. Any teenagers out there know who Cary Grant is? I'd like to stand on that walk of fame and interview the idiots that come by to walk on those stars. How many of them will have ever heard of the ones I hold so dear?

John Barrymore with Joan Crawford

~got to go find some photos ...
 So I'm looking for photos of Joan and she is smiling or vamping in nearly every one.  She was a hard working girl who worked hard on her image. From what I've read her "Grand Hotel" was pretty close to reality. She used her sex appeal to get what she wanted, and that meant being the girl who knows what she's doing, and does it a lot.

Way to look cheap!

On a minor side note

I am wondering if you—and our dear readers—could post about their favorite movies to watch high. This is a subcategory I've previously not given thought to, since my days of recreational use are far behind me. But I have recently had the occasion to smoke for medicinal purposes. And I've found—very much to my surprise—that Dinner For Shmucks is not only utterly charming, but holds up well to repeated viewings.

Six Degrees of Movie Star Separation

Dear e~.,

I'm so happy you mentioned Robert Taylor, for I've been trying to think up an excuse to make you talk about my favorite actress: Vivien Leigh, who appeared with Taylor in "Waterloo Bridge." It would be fun and interesting if we agreed on either her merits as an actress or her qualifications for the most beautiful actress in classic movies. But it would be even more fun and interesting if we didn't. I haven't heard your opinion on this before and look forward to knowing it.

In case you didn't see "Waterloo Bridge," it's a dark little movie where Viv plays a prostitute. I know that's almost as hard to believe as when the sainted Audrey Hepburn played one in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" despite the fact that the thought of her in bed with some swollen-nosed thug was more than ludicrous. So the audience must suspend their belief a tad also with Vivien, knowing she wouldn't dirty her little hands or feet by doing such dastardly deeds. Still, even if you don't believe she's had to go to the dark side for money during the war, her natural darkness bleeds through the performance and she is full of natural guilt and remorse.

I remember watching this movie when I lived on the Cape, and my stepfather's stepmother moved to Brewster. She had all the old film star biographies around, and I used to pour over them until my eyes were practically black and white like the pictures. Vivien was my favorite then, as now. I think part of it is that she reminded me of my grandmother, who from the front looked a little like Ava Gardner, but from the side had Vivien's exact profile. But that grandmother was of Czech and Austrian descent, not English, and did not have Viv's thin bow-like lips. But from the side, they could be twins.

Another reason I loved Vivien is because she was so petite. It's been said in biographies that her stage voice was rather thin. You can see her pushing her thin voice through that corset and up to her voice box belting out the true southern belle brat's argument with Mammy. I think she made a wonderful Scarlett, but there are at least two places where her southern accent sounds just a tad British. But we must forgive her, for she carried that entire movie on her narrow little shoulders so beautifully.

I'll be waiting anxiously e~ for your input on this Leigh thing. I do think although Liz Taylor may have been more striking, Vivien was just so freaking pretty, and had so much class, and the sweetest girlish expression on her face but with the strange and seductive tilt of her eyes - why I do believe she could have snared any man she wanted in the world with them.

Sifting Through the Roberts

Montgomery, Cummings, Young, Taylor... I get them mixed up sometimes.

Last night I watched Robert Taylor in a movie —with beloved Barbara Stanwyck—and realized he'd slipped below my radar. Ridiculously handsome, with full, sensuous lips. Striking. Nothing like the others.

I always think I know a fair bit about old Hollywood history. Plegh! How did I not know that Talor and Barbara were married from 1939-1952??? Shame on me. A one time Taylor was number 4 at the box office, and took the lead in the 1935 version of Magnificant Obsession with Irene Dunne. I'll need to try to dig that one out, it was a huge hit, and I find the Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman version painful to watch. I'd rather stick a fork in my hand. (that is not my line, but I can't remember who said it.) Taylor was a pretty big star, a solid leading man into the '50s, and even had his own TV show in the '60s. Yet he is quite obscure today.

Robert Taylor served admirably in the war, but would have been despised by all I hold dear because he was a "friendly witness" for the HUAC. Close friend of Ronald Regan, who even spoke at his funeral. But I will set aside my feelings about that. Above all else, I can forgive Taylor anything for this alone: When asked at a party what his most important goal was, he replied very seriously that it was to accumulate "a wardrobe of ten fine custom-tailored suits." How can I not love a man who said that?

In which we pick up where we left off

What do you think so far val?

Tweaking all the little layout details are a huge pain. Still trying to get it just right.